Waiting for thoughts to cross it
But none so far
Hours of waiting
This toddler on my lap is wondering what’s happening
I guess she just discovered a pen can make funny patterns on a surface
Which she’d come to realize later that it’s called handwriting or maybe letters
And the surface is a page on a book
Books that that will follow her for the rest of her life, the moment she’ll start using them
Well for now she’s just seated wondering what’s happening to this human
And why is she staring at a surface
Instead of eating the orange i’m giving her
Why can’t she just give her attention to me?
Maybe join in the sound i’m making
Am i not interesting enough?
But she’ll discover or rather i hope she will
That this is the safest safe space
She could ever wish for
A book and a pen
And her thoughts
Is the best getaway
She’ll ever have.
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