Muladior

Belonging to the Beginner

 

 

 

 

 

Of a child, one views with innocence

Born and yet unborn in a part of us.

Each beginning is an experience of recreation,

Of the ages, time and the provenance.

Sees all, knows everything and yet in wonder,

Itself the maestro, the gamesman and the wanderer.

Where stores it, the witnessed blessedness?

Won't tell Daddy or Mommy its plain truthfulness.

Will man know, the whatof, its nature?

Or will it continue its confounded demeanor?

Its smile a beacon, it tells me not to be hasty,

For it may have told me too much already.

Find a quiet spot, it says and take a ponder,

Time and man working together forever,

Each a puzzle to each other.

Reviews

[...]

hmmm, makes one ponder!
Such a wonderful write and layout.
I enjoyed this, made me think.