Child’s Play

I record this newly-three boy

–where was I (amazed-watching later,

tiny clues crowded into

misheard space saved by the faith-

full machine capturing now.)

I examine what drives him.

He speaks for tiny

cars, “Him got wheels.”

 “Yes, he has wheels,” I instruct

–where is my pure joy-grasp of

his sentence-structure blooms?

His play-mat roads lead to a picnic

table, a construction site, and one car

is stuck so another saves it.

“Are you okay?”


“I will take you to the hospital.”  

And off they go.  I intrude-say,

“You are so kind,” inciting his affronted,

I didn’t.  This car did,”

so I praise the true hero.

My grandson is giving credit

where it’s due, and clueless I

have another anecdote

for my busy

friends, his big heart-rays

lingering in the smiles

he calls forth

their shift unnoticed into

his paradigm of inter-being.



Inspired by Anecdote, Busy, Examine and Lingering.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Child’s Play”

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