Cute boy and painting by child prodigy Hamzah MarbellaIn the eyes of a child
the world is young, where play
and slumber have no hurried pace.
The child, like the world, is rich beyond measure
because time has no meaning,
truth is not burdened by falsehood,
a marble is gem enough, bugs and dragonflies
fill the days: happiness abounds.
Age, casually tossed into eternity's heap,
in the eyes of the child.
--William the Henry
A lovely poem. And in the wake of the terrible tragedy in Japan, heart-breaking. Thank you for writing it.
This is a result of a thread with a friend in Facebook. She put her childhood photo in her profile, explaining that she is getting into childhood mode to get a fresh perspective. So the title came up, and the poem -- it is a poem?! -- followed.
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