The children play among their parents.
They are the pure, transparent
rivulets of childhood.
What do you call the smiles
on their faces?
It is spontaneous sky.
It comes from a happiness
not dependent on anything.
They have no fences around them.
No locked gates.
They are earth when it opens
in the morning.
The fresh tide of water.
A child will love you without reason.
Look to you for strength,
not notice your weakness.
They will come to you
when you call,
and weep at your anger.
Their souls are an open palm.
They judge us
by the way we touch them,
and if we don’t scare them,
they come back
again and again to play,
and share their treasures.