of four and seven

children play
 

 
in children’s play
the predictable battles the unpredictable,
order versus nothingness,
control versus fear,
when imagination builds high and true within that great house
enough randomness must also find a home
so that the unexpected expected can delight,

too much order stultifies,
too little order and there is no game,

what seems hardest about being four years old
is certainly not the joy when all seems right
but the depth of sorrow that calls to you
when the world denies the play your will hopes to make,
 
 
a seven year old’s boat has more mass than the four’s
and can keep pushing ahead as the seas try to toss it about,
more and more I enjoy talking with the captain
for there’s a lot her charts, days, and musings reveal to her.




 














by Henry H. Walker
June 28, ’12