morning poem, November 28, 2016

When young and small

I knew not the world

Some brought me poetry

The eyes and ears of those

Who’d come before

And seen the heavens

And the earth

And heard their voice

That has gone out to the end of the world

I was made happy to know

Of bows of burning gold

Chariots of fire

And birds who quoted “Nevermore.”

And dimpling streams

And haunted greens

And I learned songs

And sang them

And thus inhabited this world

And knew my steps

 

Who fills the hearts of children now?

Copyright 2016

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