A quiet afternoon

A quiet afternoon

It’s quiet around the house nowadays
with my own child grown and so
when children come to visit here,
there is always cause for celebration.
I see so much life and wonder surrounding
their inquisitive and searching eyes.

But I especially enjoy the smiles, so freely given.
When you have been smiled at by a child,
you have been given a great treasure.
Kings of old would have been jealous
to have such a treasure, the fortune
contained within the smile of a small child.

Their smiles are given with no strings
and no expectations, unlike what we
cagey and cautious adults do. We smile
and don’t mean it. We smile and hide
what is going on inside. Not so with a child.
Theirs are wind-born seeds looking for
fertile hearts upon which to land and take root.

I am not sure where the beginnings of
a small child’s smile lies. I see a bit of
the mystery of it when the afternoon turns
upon the pivot of a hand made wooden top.
In the spinning toss of this dancing toy,
I see this revelation as it emerges upon
the child’s face where wonderment gently turns
to joy upon seeing the whirling thing bounce about.
I saw it In  my own child. I see it other children
and I see it in some adults who have not forgotten
how to bend low to look into the eyes of little ones.

I have admired the simplicity of small children
left to play by themselves and will often lie belly down
with my chin resting on my hands so I can have
an unobstructed view of their world and hopefully
see life as they do.

My daughter was my favorite subject.
She would play with her dolls and her toys often
soliciting my help in some movement she
had yet to master, allowing me to join in
her magical world. I would be drawn in and Time
would stand off for a while. I always appreciated
the graciousness that Time would offer
in those moments and I when my Time comes
I must remember to say thank-you.

As she grew, I would often wonder if she would
remember those times she and I had tea,  dressed
the cat or made macaroni and cheese from a box
while her mom was out shopping.

Now that she is an adult, I catch myself meandering
back to those thoughts. I do it more often, meander
that is, and will carefully get down on my hands
and knees, settle onto my overly round belly,
while Time stands off  for a few moments more
as I imagine a small child smiling.

                                ~r. 

                                  All rights reserved,
                        © August, 2006 R. Braley
                                (astralshepherd)