I will nurture this inner child who,

Will father me when I grow,

Young and lead me,

Until eyes learn to see,


I will not bully him with,

Conceit of grown-up ways,

Nor thwart him with illusions of,

A single point of view,


But give him range to spread,

Out amongst the world,

To smell and taste and touch,

And see with untainted senses,


Until the glory of the world comes,

To him as an emotion,

A physical cerainty, not words,

But melifluous symphony.


Then let him drape peace about my shoulders,

Like a fur coat in the cold of old age,

Let him lead me gently through the new world,

Let him calm my fear with comforting embrace,

Let him lay me softly in the soil,


There to grow,

Into spring flowers for his window sill,

Potatoes for his pot.


6 Responses to “Child”

  1. I love, love, love this–especially that second stanza. How we do bully ourselves with grown up ways.

  2. nice…i like the inner child fathering us….very cool opening…and peace draped around us is another cool image as it is all enveloping….and the way he cares for you sounds about right you know…smiles.

  3. Poignant and a beautiful read. I loved the last stanza.

  4. That’s sound like a great way for a child to be nurtured and grow… Love it.

  5. I love this poem. What a wonderful philosophy! Thank you.

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