Isn’t it curious how, when we were young 

we had a simple view of dreams and memory?

Memories showed us how things were

and dreams…how things could be.


But now that we are older

we have a different point of view

as memories now remind us

of our dreams that have come true.


And isn’t it curious how when we were young

the world was fun, and innocent…and new

still secretly we wished

to do what grown-ups do?


But now that we are older,

and the world is not as fun, or innocent…or new

secretly we wish 


to do what children do?

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They say the very young and the very old have the softest hearts.

That one possesses wisdom while in the other innocence dwells.

Which is perhaps, they say, why these two ends of the rainbow

get along so well.


As I was walking in the park he came up from behind…

He gently took my hand in his…he had something on his mind.


There were birds along the waters edge…

he didn’t wait for my assent…

he pointed in their direction, tugged my hand

and, quickly, off we went.


We chased the birds to our mutual delight…

his grip…determined, safe and strong.

The birds would fly away then fly right back

happy to play along.


He was not afraid to be near the water…

not afraid of the unknown…

Instinctively he knew by holding hands

he was not there alone.


We only walked together for a little while

before his interest realigned…

But even as he toddled off

he left his palm print etched in mine….


I say it matters not how old you are

if you walk hand in hand with a young one often…

every time they slip their hand in yours


your heart is bound to soften.

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