Child

This child standing so hazily in front of me
Defeats my heinous attempts at sanctity.

His gaze is empty:
Silent as the stars,
Drinking in the world,
Seeing each crisp occurrence
In the space around him
From the distance of his solitude—

He:
Vapor angel,
Fading
Into
Air.

And I cannot compete.
My gaze breaks with each expectant object;
I cannot converse with any one in particular.
The grown-ups approach,
With chatter and noise,
And I am ashamed to know their lingo.
He lingers on,
Dreaming in the green currents
Of his secret revelations.

Yes, they seem secret even to himself…
And that is his beauty--

Beauty that deprives me of my gravity addiction,
And slowly I float into the marginal realms
Of this noisy room, never
To be heard from
Again.