Watching images of little children running around in
reflections of a mind.
Seeing their innocence, wonder and awe in everything
they do.
Acknowledging their innate knowledge as they come up
with fascinating thoughts on different ways of doing
the same old things.
Spreading their wings, soaring over one another, ideas
flowing like waterfalls over cliffs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem