Poetry

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As the wanderer of the skies, just why do you wander?
When you choose to take flight, it seems you just don't saunter.
You move with joyful playfulness, the exuberance of a child.
I fail to see helplessness, when you wander in the wild.

I learn from you carefree abandon, without the mindlessness.
Your kindness is far from random. There is no senselessness.
Wise you are, beyond your means, so gentle and so mild.
I'm reminded, so it seems, of the Heavenly Child.

© 10-18-2010

Note: The title is a reference to the pen name for a dear friend who befriended me first, making the move first. His name is Allan, 49 years old, and is a marvelous poet though he admits to having a severe learning disability. He has such a child-like way and yet is so full of wisdom. He reminds me of another "Child".

He just needs to be saved.

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