A Confession Poem by Peter McArthur

Dear little boy, with wondering eyes
That for the light of knowledge yearn,
Who have such faith that I am wise
And know the things that you would learn.
Though oft I shake my head and smile
To hear your childish questions flow,
I must not meet your faith with guile;
I cannot tell, I do not know.

Dear little boy with eager heart,
Forever on the quest of truth,
Your riddles oft are past my art
To answer to your tender youth.
But some day you will understand
The things that now I cannot say,
When life shall take you by the hand
And lead you on its wondrous way.

Dear little boy with hand in mine,
Together through the world we fare,
Where much that I would fain divine
I have not yet the strength to bear.
Like you with riddling words I ask,
Like you I hold another hand,
And haply when I do my task,
I, too, shall understand.