Hey, little boy in the sand box frame!
What are ya’ tryin’ to do?
Perhaps you’re pretending to mold the good earth
Yet the earth is what’s fashioning you.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I had a dream last night.”
“You did?”
“Yea. It’s really weird to think what can
happen when you’re mind isn’t even turned on.”
Hey, little lad with the grass stained knee!
Can you fathom the lure in your eyes?
You drift in and out of my bygone days
With the ease of a cloud in disguise.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I know why they put skin over people’s skeletons.”
“You do?
“Yea! So they don’t scare nobody.”
Hey, little guy with the broken train,
Did ya’ know you’re the king over all?
You sustain the creation in subtle mores.
You beguile with one toss of your ball.
“Ya’ know what, Mom?”
“What, son?”
“I’m gonna be the best boy in town!
What’s at mean, anyhay?”
Hey little one in the glistening steel,
Does your armor oppress as you ride?
Have you clapped for the conquest
And cheered for the knights?
Have you bowed to the king for his bride?
“I think I know why we hear crickets in the daytime.”
“You do? Why?”
“Well, maybe, ‘cause it’s still dark in China.”
Hey, little boy at the captain’s wheel,
Can we feel all the waves and the splashes?
I’ve forgotten that song about “Ring Around Rose”.
Do you know what comes after the “Ashes”?
“Sure. Ashes come in with that Santa Claus guy.
That man that puts logs in the stockings.
The logs are them things that hold up the trees
That Santa knocks down when he’s flocking.”
“He’s flocking the trees?”
“No. He’s flocking the wings.”
“Oh, you mean, ‘Flapping his wings’”.
“Mom. Santa Claus don’t have wings!”
Hey, little kid with your silly old tricks,
Can we fly to the old rocking chair?
“Sure! I’ll beam us right up like them Star Trekkie guys!”
We made it! Now, let’s say a prayer.
“Is God in charge? Do He say His payers?
Could ja’ tell Him to watch over me?
And, am I gonna’ die?”
“No, not for so-o-o-o-o long.”
“Ya’ mean ‘till next Christmas? Yipee!”
Good night now Son.
“Ya’ know, in Heaven, if someone tried to kill ya’,
It wouldn’t hurt ‘cause you’d already be dead!”
Good night now, hon.
“What did they use for space suits back when you was a kid?”
I’ll tell you tomorrow. Good night little one.
“Good night little two.”
Dream little boy with your mind on hold.
Are you drawn toward that mystic repose?
Wish I could indulge in the quest that’s reserved
For the innocent child of the rose.
Jody Walker