Moments with you, my children
Do you see what I see?
I see this glow when you play.
Ten and Twelve, at the edge of a major shift. But there is still magic, sometimes.
Rare moments. I feel the force of time stealing this away.
Replacing it with something new. You make conscious choices and are defining yourselves by that. We can talk about it on deeper levels and you have understanding. Your awareness of the world is unfolding, innocence is ebbing. You wonder what kind of existence this is.
Four. I see wonderment in you. You can still exist in the magic of the moment. What is this field to you. You call things that are special to you, “I wish.” The “I wish pumpkin.” Everything is bigger and infinite and anything is possible. What are you thinking here? You make up words and names. I am “Wrinklin,” you call yourself, “Shawna” sometimes. I love that you are truly in that place four years olds should be. You live in magic. I love this. I want to live there sometimes in this place with you. I want this moment to last for a long time. You remind me of joyfulness.