wise child

Wise child

You are learning to sit.
With unsteady deliberation you lean for a crinkly toy to pull
to your ever exploring mouth.
As you bend, you lose balance and fall slowly to one side
Limbs flailing…an upturned beetle…
you cry for me to lift you, place you upright again.
I, with the big arms and wild power to do so, eventually do
Only for you to reach and fall once more
You do not know your own limit
You do not know yet that the earth can be hard,
that fire can burn, that there is blood beneath our skin
You need to fall.
Somehow you, little wise wonder, seem to know this
So you continue again and again until one day you will sit alone.

I am learning to read you.
With careful attention I watch your body wiggle then arc
The sky of your face shifts from clear to cloudy
Your voice squeaks and grunts
I name the cause and prepare the remedy
only to discover my diagnosis was premature
So you cry and without sympathy I curse myself
for failing to attend correctly
I do not allow my grown up self to fall
to fall is to fail I am told.