We should all aspire to have the honesty of children,
to be fearless and feckless, get our hands sticky
and sweet. Joie de vivre.
We used to pour so much faith into the hands that fed
us, that clothed us, reprimanded and shaped us. Left
a nickel under a pillow, a gift under a tree.
It’s something I think about often:
To be young and naive again,
To go to sleep unplagued by dreams
Of terror and hatred filling the world
I live in, yet don’t understand.
Hatred a product of different skin,
Or of the person one might find love in.
We should exude the blind trust and love
For each other that children do. Answer simple
Questions with simpler answers. The sky is blue
Because it just is. I’m crying because I’m sad.
I’m scared of the dark, not what lies within it.
We should all aspire to have the honesty of children.
To be fearless and feckless, curious and courageous.