Wednesday, February 27, 2013

You will not remember these years

I pick you up and swing you around,
You squint and smile, shining white teeth show,
I  push you in a toy car over a mound
Your eyes sparkle and your face doth glow

You don’t mind simple things in repetition
A block in the box, a doll in the chair
You hug your sick mommy by some intuition
You make her feel better with a doe-eyed stare

Your contentment consists in the crook of a neck
Comfort and protection, a love you do not yet understand
The waves you sail do not present an end, or shipwreck
The ark of salvation, the help of loving arms and hands

The funny thing is that none of this will be remembered
Though that isn’t to say it is forgotten or lost
In your mind it may remain as a feeling dismembered
I buy it with joy as I learn the true cost

No comments:

Post a Comment