I love to watch
the wonder of a child
discovering the real world
full of flesh and blood
feather and fur
twig and leaf
right and wrong
good and bad

I love to watch
her fascination
as a ladybug's feet
brush over her hand
her adoring fingers
out to nurture and provide
nearly decapitating the thing

And I love to watch
his bubbly reverence
when a robin stops and
stares right back

Then there is the clumsiness
of maneuvering a small body
around sharp corners
and other moving things
every movement a journey
full of toils and snares

It is not long before the shock
of  injustice
and the way the body bleeds
begins to sink in
--even a paper cut
calls for the magic of a kiss and gauze

And far too many encounter
the deepest kinds of wounds
far too early
in their moving breathing lives

These are the wounds only heaven can heal
and I pray
to the Maker of the Sparrows
on behalf of the little ones
so fresh to the good creation
so fresh to the fallen world