Let me see with clear eyes
Eli ran up the path at 7.30 this morning
eyes lit with enthusiasm and anticipation
‘Gee-tar! where’s your ‘puter Gogo?’
He sits at the table outside
(patient of my fumbling relationship with computers)
and watches/listens to Grandpa Elliot singing ‘Stand by Me’
Mellow-honeyed tones of the Blues float into the garden
Every fiber of his being in focused attention
each change in tone noted
each new instrument named
‘Saxophone! Washboard! Gee –tar! Cello! Gee-tar with no hole! ‘lectric gee-tar Gogo!’
Oh to see with such fresh eyes!
to hear with such two and a half year old newness
such unpolluted pleasure
I woke this morning with tired eyes
clouded by old stories and repeated patterns
brought into the present
through the clear eyes of my grandson
as the sun washes a blessing into the morning garden
and the new flush of scarlet flowers is no longer last year’s repeat
but this year’s miracle