We must have a bit of play,
The child in us seeks it out,
The child breathing
In unbridled joy escaping lips,
The child alive now
In haste and noise
In laughter brightening
What order destroyed!
Let her come to you,
Reach for your love
Dancing beautifully in gladness
With all that would, that could be
True of this world in receipt of self.
The wind will carry its refrain,
A child has lined its path in flowers
And anointed it in joyful wing.
Fear not these shafts of gleam
For they be but whispers
Of your speaking echo
Where the stream of youth
Wrestles the downpour of time.
Beckon the sweet, the softness of youth,
Summon it to the black houses
And pained and troubled rooftops,
This joy, this glee, this playful child,
Youthfulness within its folds!
Do not watch her go!
Do not fret the child’s likeness.
Surrender to her laughter, her imagination.
Summon her home!