it is her smile I seek

I conjure it to break the peaks

as the sun just after dawn

the amber that spawns

a withdrawn heart to speak

funny the broken things

we come to love

broken by eons of pain

seeking comfort in the artlessness

budding beauty

as light which breaks a windowpane

and to keep her entertained

I do foolish things

to watch her spring into the love I seek

a ball of fire that dances

the more it breathes

it becomes alive

—foolish entertainment

enlightens her

she smiles

when I become a child

and in return this man

who put away childish things

became a jocund soul—complete

perhaps it is only nonsensical

by the forgetfulness of age

even the wise must sustain

some childish things

for the children

in us.