What it would be to be a small child again
And leave behind the adult world;
Marvelling at the simple things of life
And touching the souls of those around.
To see the world, as only a child can see it -
Not caring or comprehending what’s to come,
But delighting in the simple things on offer.
Letting wet mud ooze through little fingers.
To delight at the many colours reflected
In a bubble that floats across the room.
To laugh with joy as Dad slowly blows up -
Larger and larger - a huge, round, red balloon.
To see the beauty of flowers for the first time
And wonder at their shapes and their majesty;
Touching petals gently; delighting in their softness,
And seeing the glory of their stunning hues.
Once again to feel the thrill of that first slide,
As the cool air brushes gently against the face,
But with the safety net of Mum’s waiting hands
And her comforting words of encouragement.
Oh to see our world
through the eyes of a small child.
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