16

however many years are added to my age,
however much I grow in the eyes of the world,
I am still the little child of universe
a child,
still and always…
that is why my stubborn rapture
against all solemn faces.
and my never-ending lament
in child-like tears,
that fall down suddenly
and dry on my cheeks silently.
however many times
I trip over people,
falter and fall,
that is why
my bouncing back to the game
with my bleeding knees,
and that is why
my counting everybody as a friend
and my acceptance of all humanity