I watch my son playing
Running and dancing
Building with bricks
Imagining the little plastic man exists
And talks to the little plastic dog.
Barking, mad.
His electric car flashes lights
Beeps when he pushes buttons
Follows his commands
Racing into shadows
And jams under the sofa.
Sounding, loud.
He calls dad
“the rescue team”
Long arms to reach
And recover
What is out of reach
Of two year old arms.
Stretching, me.
How long before I say
“Bed time now Daniel”
And not wanting to let go
He will cry, even yell
How easily paradise is lost
If only for a moment
Stolen by attachment
To what he has.
Binding. him.
As we grow older
Those moments
Of paradise lost
Will we let them
Grow and swell
Until life is only filled
With the pain of
What we have lost?
Or go happily
On our way
In anticipation
Of endless possibilities
Of each brand new day.
Freedom, ours.
Does time cloud the focus from men to boys Can others words convince us in the end, its our choice? Danny
A very sentimental piece, touching the heart of the reader. Thank you for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The innocence and joy of a two year old, how marvelously you have described it. It gives me pause to close my eyes and dream of being far away with my grandsons,2 & 4 and when they hear what they never want to hear, '' nite, nites, time', then it up the stairs to hold them close and read 'GoodNight Moon' for starts! You have let me enjoy a day with them here, toys and laughs and tears and hugs, the whole package, here in your poem. thanks soooo much.....love, marci.xo