These structures we build so surely
do not withstand the most violent of quakes.
But, the child’s eye that sees so purely
knows it can be patched with simple tape.
We spend our fortunes on brick and mortar
for shelter against the tempest winds.
But, their little hands replenish order,
using sticky threads to make amends.
The gales rage and gust with retribution
to put cracks in our construction.
They use simplicity, despite the confusion,
to remedy the fragility in our destruction.
Children do not come into this world polluted.
We project our turmoil onto them.
They’re not the ones, who need to be refuted.
Perhaps, we should pay more attention to them.