There was a girl,
let’s call her Kili,
who listened to the birds,
knew the songs of the trees,
read the patterns of the skies,
and danced under the friendly sun.
All of nature spoke to her,
and she spoke back to them,
sharing deep secrets,
the kind, only best friends do.
“Kili!”, her winged friends would call.
“Enda, Enda… What? What?”
She would coo back with joy,
tipping her head like them,
rushing inside for tiny grains of rice,
to feed her friends hidden in the trees.
Little Kili lived in a magical world, that I would envy,
far removed the world I lived in then.
Speaking a language which she and nature understood,
that adults like me did not.
Yesterday, I came by a little chariot,
hidden beside a bush.
Kili had left it behind, forgotten after play.
Laden with small stones, leaves, tiny flowers
and wood chips.
Weathered by the sun and the rain.
It stood there,
reminding me of the wonderful patterns
on the ground she would create in play.
My little Kili would have grown up by now,
having flown far away, leaving me behind.
How many years has it been? Four...five … or more?
Has she forgotten this precious world she has left behind?
Were they a gift from her to me to come by,
to remind me of how she used to be?
Or, were they a magical remnant,
a secret whisper,
to bring back the little girl that lives within me alive.
~ Srividya Srinivasan