The Tsunami Children
They sit at tiny desks, intent, intense,
Guardedly glancing at us, their visitors, who file before them.
Greetings are semi-formal. Standing rows.
Then, nods and smiles and introductions done,
we hunker down amongst their desks.
They jostle round, wide-eyed in welcome,
eager to talk and proud to share their skills.
We frame and take their pictures and they crowd to see,
amused and curious at images of faces - selves - not fully known.
Their hardest learning is to come.
Later they dance for us;
each wrist and arm, each arc and sweep, curling and weaving
the timeless grace of pattern deeply learnt.
All
And then it's time for lunch
and out they go in line, small lunchbags tightly clutched.
More grins and waves, some handshakes and goodbyes,
before, their duty done, they're off to eat and play.
Slowly we move towards our bus, eyes misting,
searching and grasping
to firm and fix
just what we've seen.
The ocean hurled its worst.
Out of the wreckage little children came.
Each smile
Each dancing step
A rainbow shyly born.
Poem by;
John Carrington May 2010
*John visited the school last year along with the volunteers from EXPLORE worldwide
