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.
Leave a Reply