Asperger's Child Poem by Paul Schneiter

Some say you're not quite whole,
but I know better, Angel Child.
You live in a place all your own,
free, unhinged, sometimes wild.

In precious moments you let me in
and I am stunned by what I see.
Purple trees and butterfly bees
and things I thought couldn't be.

You tell me of other wonders
in a voice so sweet I nearly weep-
of Daisy Lou, a lizard that's blue,
and of mice that sing you to sleep.

Then abruptly your voice changes
and your look seems ages away.
I have become a stranger to you;
you have said all you have to say.

I understand the pattern too well
you have gone where I can't go.
You dwell there often Angel Child,
it's where you're wholly whole.