Canto CCLIII

Happy two weeks birthday, little one,
though it feels like we’ve known you many years,
through the blooming buzzing confusion,

the world’s salt swirling through your seashell ears,
I hope our voices pierce through the thick din
like whale song through the mindless, krilly layers,

a distant mind, undefined, like your own.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    May 09, 2012 @ 23:31:33

    We may not agree on the merits of the Shard but for me this poem is spot on.
    I read somewhere, that the infant mind is wired for perfect parallel thought; all the sights, sounds, smells of the world around them and their reactions to them occur instantly. No wonder they need to sleep so much.

    “a distant mind, undefined, like your own.”

    Reply

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