The Walk

I’m learning to walk.
I fall at almost every step.
Every step is cheered and applauded.
I’m too slow for people.
But they wait for me with open, inviting arms.
The wait is a pleasure to them.
I’m a toddler in the making.

I learnt and forgot how to walk.
I almost fall at every step.
Every step evokes a rueful sigh.
I’m too slow for people.
They wait for me with an eye on their watches.
The wait is a burden to them.
I’m an octogenarian in the making.

6 thoughts on “The Walk

  1. ramesh rai

    It is the first lesson of every ones life and taught by mother. Thank you so much for share. A great job for every one to learn. In one of my bengali poem Mother’s affection (Mayer bhalobasa) i hve written so.


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