I’m Holding a Worm

 

I’m Holding a Worm

(“The desire of a man is his kindness, and a poor man is better than a liar.” Proverbs 19:22)

Lay aside your baggage, the seats are free. The strange days
are opening upon the rivers and the seas. The damp air
wraps you like a London cloak and the
pines drip mist like honey from needle to root.

I walked by his door 60 feet from his porch
after mounting the hill where
douglas firs made their throne above town.
A little boy, 5 or 6, I did not know his name,
but waved and said “hi” because, well, I like the way
children lose their shyness at a distance. And
I have finally learned that
gifts and kindness reside in the voices of the young.
And he looked at me.
With eyes too far away to know their focus or color,
I still could see how his cheeks shone in the autumn brisk.
His mouth wound around his breath and he waved
hi
in return.
“I’m holding a worm,” he said.

Lay aside your doctrines, the gates are open. The strange days
speak like the river Jordan when Jesus went under. The damp air
is still chilly and cold and the skies are heavy. The road still
winds past they houses of children who pick up worms
and show them to strangers.

And late in this day I have learned,
whatever a child offers is a treasure; worm or hug,
fingerpainted dinosaurs or muddy pies;
they have offered the best, their own, their discovery,
their treasure.