Wednesday, 16 February 2011

The Storyteller


In her solar system,
her son is the sun.
Through spring and autumn,
she hears the tales he spun.

Her son would marvel,
observing nature's bounty.
With many a pebble and gravel
he plays in their little county.

The tales of a flying tiger
and a singing giraffe,
the friends of an old beggar
make him laugh.

The mother showers her love
through hugs and kisses.
We'll never know how
certain things God misses.

The boy knows not boredom
though he has not some features.
Sans word, (his) mom weaves wisdom,
knowing the grammar of gestures.