A Moment in Time

And so the lady bug, she crawls,

Across the leaf so carefully,

That the leaf feels only tiny feet

tickling its tender parts.

The child sees,

The child sees its tender crawl,

The Intricate pattern of the spider's web,

The sweet rounded edges of the hummingbird nest,

With the spider web weave and dew.

And perhaps a piece of grass or moose shed too.

The child sees the glitter in the rock, the circles in the pool, the dung beetle's mystery.

The child sees what the grownups miss.

The child sees no color difference, no age difference,

Only the magic of that difference.

The child hears everything,

The birds song sweet in its tune,

The anger in the voice of fear and doom.

The child senses, strong and keen; examines everything,

The dandelion flower, a drop of dew, the pollen dust, the earth taste too.

The oozing pitch, the tiny seed,  the tiny feet upon a leaf.

So, hold still your parenting, and listen to the child.

Allow and observe all the child can bring.

Enjoy each and every moment a child sings,

It is fleeting and leaves in the flash of a blink.