Children See Them
His eyes looked over the weed-covered field,
With greens and golds and neglected brush hills.
With the wrong kind of shoes and very nice pants,
He leaped out the car with a twinkle-eyed glance.
"Be back in one second!" he yelled as he ran,
"Where are you going? Get back here young man!"
His little form hopped, just his head in mom's view,
"This boy wears me thin, now what did he do?"
She got out of the car and knew they'd be late,
He never slows down until its past eight.
Then a breathless and dirty small form reappeared,
His brown eyes so happy, a smile full of cheer.
And just as she started to scold the young lad,
Address his behavior yet not get too mad,
He thrust out his hand and then did she see,
A fist full of flowers he'd seen in the weeds.
To see like a child, a way we can bless,
Jump out our cars, no matter our dress.
To run with compassion, forgiveness and grace,
Then thrust out our gifts with love in our face.
