The Clock Vine - The Orange Bike

Manjusha Arora

Mom,

EI Website Contributor

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Every mother knows these moments—the tiny hands she once held, the first steps she cheered, the quiet wish to pause time. These poems gently capture the love, pride, and bittersweet beauty of watching a little boy grow while forever remaining her little one.

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The Clock Vine

The rain is gone, the game is done,

He pauses play, my little son.

He brings a Clock Vine wet with dew,

A piece of time he gave to you.

The blossom twists to meet the day,

While childhood quickly slips away.

You hold the flower in your hand,

The sweetest gift in all the land.

You wish that you could freeze the clock,

Right there upon the cricket walk.

To keep him small, to hold him tight,

Save this moment in the light...

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The Orange Bike

I held the seat of your bright orange bike,

To help you find balance, the feeling you'd like.

But the clouds opened up,

And the rain started falling,

And the puddles around us

Were suddenly calling.

We forgot all the lessons,

We forgot all the rules.

We jumped in the water

Like two happy fools.

The rain brought us magic,

And pure joyful play.

You found your new courage

And smiled through the gray.

You pushed on the pedals

And started to glide.

And just like magic,

You learned how to ride!

No hands there to hold you,

You flew down the lane.

My proudest moment,

In the beautiful rain.