“Remember me? Says the little girl,
with the dark dreamy eyes
that bore through mine;
Somehow knowing,
somehow wise.
Scrawny thing with scabby knees;
hair blowing wild,
in the tropical breeze.
Bare feet planted,
in wet muddy grass,
stoic. solid
yet fragile like glass –
all these in one,
blazing, like the sun.
Her expression, resolute;
Her resolve, absolute.
Hands on hips,
half-smile on lips,
in her solitude.

“So you don’t then…
Remember me? Still!”
A quick spin on her agile heel,
one smooth motion,
no pause for caution,
nor backward glance.
Never a victim
of circumstance.
With careless ease
and inherent skill,
she swings herself up
the Araliya tree.
Free as free.
Into her world, of fantasy.
Who is she,
why has she come to me?

Something familiar resonates;
my heart…hesitates.
A distant memory stirs and wakes,
causing me to want to break.
To shatter into a million shards
of me…
each jagged and razor sharp;
cutting, tearing, slashing, gashing,
setting forth an unstoppable flood
of my life’s blood…
run cold.
My inner being, laid bare and bold.

Because she,
is who I used to be.
And now she is gone
into infinity…
“Remember me” demands her voice.
From somewhere above
the canopy.



This poem is to commemorate International Women’s Day 2017. It was originally published by The Daily FT Sri Lanka