Tell Me Why

Tell Me Why was published in Indian Periodical, a literary magazine based in India. Here’s the link:

http://indianperiodical.com/2020/11/tell-me-why/

I was a child of nine or ten,
I’d often of my mother ask
The things that made me wonder then,
I’d keep her from her morning task.

I’d lead her to the garden green,
And then we’d sit and gaily speak
Of things I might have heard or seen,
The answers I would always seek.

I’d ask about the roses red,
Why do they have a thorny prick?
And so, to me, my mother said,
They are to see and not to pick.

I’d look up at the azure sky,
Why does it change its pretty hue?
From blue to black, oh, tell me why!
What is it that I never knew?

The blue is when the day is fine,
The black is for the starry night
And when it’s blue, the sun will shine,
Amidst the dark, the moon so bright.

Why do the moths fly in the dark?
And butterflies fly in the day?
Is that a sparrow or a lark?
How do I tell, is there a way?

How does the bright-eyed robin sing?
How does the lovely fairy fly?
Dear Child, you ask so many things!
My mother then said with a sigh.

The world is vast, yes, I agree,
And everything must seem so new
Those drops of water that you see,
Are nothing but the morning dew.

The misty white you see up there,
Are clouds up in the stormy sky
The rain will come, I do declare!
And then the sun will bid goodbye.

Then said she with a knowing smile,
There is so much you wish to know
But ah! You have to wait a while,
For all, I cannot tell or show.

Each sun that sets, each morn that dawns,
Will solve a puzzle, sometimes two
Each night that comes, each day that’s gone,
Will answer that riddle for you.

So, child of mine, with eyes so wide,
You will one day be very wise
You’ll know the flowers by your side,
And all the colors of the skies.