A Boy’s Story

He woke up this morning to beautiful music

And the wonderfully sweet scent of summer

His happiness unparalleled

His youth burdened by nothing,

Least of all the endless tempest that rages still

It is wonderful, this pure innocence

This strange gift he possesses

He knows not from whence it came

Nor for what reason it came to be

He’ll pass the day in careless abandon

Running like the wind till sundown

Till his breath fails and his legs collapse

And he’s carried away, asleep

Maybe he’ll read a book, or a poem

Or sit still and listen to tales from elders

Kick a ball and dance to the silent rhythm

In his youthful heart

He’ll steal an orange from the pantry, eat it fast

And scrub his hand raw

Or be exposed by the sweet perfume of his only vice

It is wonderful the innocence in his heart

This strange gift he possesses

He knows not from where it came or for what reason it came to him

With his energy spent, his body exhausted,

The day’s adventures abandoned

And lessons learnt quickly forgotten, He’ll lie in peace

With absolute assurance that tomorrow will come

Unburdened by the endless tempest that rages still