Friday Poetry returns

Bits and Pieces


She brought me bits as we walked along:
A pebble from the driveway.
A twig, a scrap of dried leaf.
Held out in hands with a feather touch.

I traded her the leaf for a blade of grass.
The exchange was weighty, valuable.
Each frontyard treasure offered as a gift.
Magnanimous presentation.
Then a wordless question mark in her tiny voice.

I took the bits and told her about her world.
A mama-thing.
“This leaf came from a tree.
See the tree?”
“This is a rock.
Feel it. Is it smooth or hard?”
“Touch that bark, is it rough? Scratchy?”
“Do you feel the sunshine? Do you see the squirrel across the street?”

I made sense of the bits of the world she brought to me.
Put them in context. Painted a picture.
Called out her senses.
Showed her where she fit in.
Helped her go a few steps further in her tiny stutter-steps.

A mama-thing, and a God-thing.
I bring bits of life,
Held out in questioning hands.
He shows me the world with new eyes.
Calls out my senses to teach me about life.
Helps me walk a few steps further.

"Do you feel the sunshine?
Do you see this day I created?
Do you see how much I love you?"