Like the blissful songs of morning birds,

Like the joyful voices of singing cherubs,

Like the silvery droplets of the wooded cataracts,

And like the tinkling of silver bells,

Children’s laughter reached my ears and soul

And I welcomed it as parched earth during drought

Soaked in the first drizzle of the Monsoon rains,

Refreshing and rejuvenating,

My ailing heart with its plethora of aches,

Torn memories and fruitless dreams .

I woke to the plays of my grandchildren

And shook of my lethargy and doldrums

To face living another day.

*After listening to Aliyah’s laughter