By Don Iannone
Nothing comes close
to a child's love to create
from that magical well within.
No imagination can reach
as far or deep as the child's inner eye,
when consumed totally...
by whatever the moment holds.
Each stroke of the brush,
every word written,
and every smile cast--
all unadulterated symphonies
echoing in the soul's sky blue waters.
Is it any wonder
that we cry when we grow old,
and slip into our child-like dreams
to bring us joy and comfort?
Dedicated to the children in
Oman's Sultan Qaboos University Hospital.
15 comments:
"...all unadulterated symphonies
echoing in the soul's sky blue waters..." Lovely Don!
Yeah... I remember...
beautiful, don!
Just beautiful Don!
Thank you!
Margie
to me, this is your best by far, Don!
It makes me feel a little sad to think about it.
Nice poem.
Thanks Rob, Polona, Margie, Dan, Kathleen, and jel. Much appreciated. Thank goodness we all have our child within forever...
Im so touched with this poem...I love your poem, Its just exact what I wanted to say...I would love to put it in the calender if allow me so
Echoe my beautiful with the rest!!
don
this is so beauiful
:-)
Just beautiful,nothing like a childs creative spirit.
Beautiful and sad, considering all the little children of the world losing their child within moment after moment, day after day...
...remembering :)
Blessings of Peace and Joy, Don.
Thank you for your lovely poem.
Hey don't be sad... love the poem, but we need not grow old... be like the little child... it is only conforming to society's expectations that makes us old. It is a state of mind and that state of mind will make us old or young and your body will refect exactly what you think you are. Be 16, be 20 be whatever makes your heart sing. Don't be shy, if we want to change the world we won't do it by growing old.
smile it's Christmas :)
GEL...thank you for sharing all this. You're doing wonderful work.
Christina...thanks for your comment and the reminders. Much appreciated. Inside, I am in my early twenties...exactly how old I feel there.
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