The childhood of a mind

The childhood of a mind

Before his statue had stood there
Before his sayings dwelled
His sightings were shy and rare
And his words never spelled

Before the sun with vivid rays
Had risen above his lawn
Green leaves found no ways
To colour his dim dawn

How rare are the ones who
Smiled upon his smile
And to his pain, only few
Had wept for little while

© Ziad Dib Jreige