Being a grandpa is pure, distilled joy. I recently experienced grand-fatherhood.

Here ┬áis what I wrote for the baby boy ‘Shlok’…..

Shlok
(a welcome song)

it’s a cold night in New York,
bleak brick and window facades,
lifeless buildings
endless roads
that criss-cross like an argument without purpose
time stands frozen in expectation

and then a whiff of warmth
a small muffled cry
of a life just begun

like a silent arrow shot into future
of life’s intent
to keep moving, keep going

i am a whiff of warm joy
when i see frozen wait and expectation
i curl up, warming every lap with love

central park sleeps
amid its barren trees, waiting
for the snow to melt
for the snow to melt and life to thaw
for the crushed roots to grow again
trees to wear twigs,flowers, birds, music, magic;

love will make it all happen
i am here to make it all happen
i am life’s longing for itself

life will go on with its intent
now that i am here

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