Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The Child

By: David Vagnoni

Without a word, the child waits
His heart no common shape
His mother nudges closer still
And yet he lies awake.

Without a place, the child sits
He giggles in the sun
His father’s face he watches now
So true and yet so fake.

Without a voice, the child speaks
His ways they cannot know
They laugh and cry and linger there
And gaze in disbelief.

Without a dream, the child grows
So brash and yet so meek
He works to earn a season’s rate
And yet no prize he keeps.

Without a step, the child walks
His path approved by fate
His friends they guard his every move
And yet he seems unsafe.

Without a pause, the child shares
They eat what he creates
The wise they call his works a trick
And yet they can’t debate.

Without a cure, the child heals
They reach to touch his cape
The winds do pound and tempt his pace
And yet he doesn’t shake.

Without a brush, the child paints
In stories he relates
With guilt they turn and wander off
And yet he won't restate.

Without a fault, the child seeks
To rid their souls of spite
The woman he forgives her breach
And hopes she will forsake.

Without a fear, the child wakes
He enters through the gate
They cheer and dance and honor him
And yet the glory fades.

Without a sound, the child leads
He falls to wash their feet
While demons make the shadows creep
He plans no great escape.

Without a crime, the child weeps
He kneels and drops his head
They tear his hands and bend his waist
And yet he doesn’t faint.

Without his life, the earth would cease
The debt he fully paid
For each and every one he died
And yet not all partake.

Without a thought, the child pleads
He begs the rock won’t break
He feels the time has nearly come
And yet the world breeds hate.

Without a word, the child prays
His heart no common shape
The trump begins its pleasant sound
And yet the child waits.

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