For Isa and Maddox and John Thomas (small stone 1/25/2012)

The first spring day
Brings the yearlings out to play.
Wild, wispy baby hair
Has been cut into conformity for the first time,
But it's covered with a primary-colored hoody.
Blue, Red, Green, Yellow
Bounce around the playground
Like rubber balls.
Their spring jackets combined with
Tiny, fresh, white sneakers
Running by in a blur
Look like a bag of marbles
Has been dumped out.
Newly discovered sand
Sticks to a chubby creased hand.
The other hand rakes a silvery snot trail
Across a pink, wind-whipped cheek.
Robin's egg eyes marvel at:
The clouds, an inch worm,
A stray gummy bear resting on a patio block.

Another year indoctrinated into humanity,
And they'll become the unabashed terrible twos.
Along will come the horrible realization
Of sharing and competition.
The toy wars will begin and stretch into forever.
But for now they are still wide-eyed with
Pure innocence from the other side.
They have seen spiritual beauty and truth,
And they still remember.
They would tell you, if they could talk.