My daughter believes in fairies.
And there is nothing so beautiful
As watching a little girl look
For tiny blue nymphs hiding
In between the corners
Of things.
She sees another world,
One I am beginning to
Rediscover
In my later years.
I want to tell her with tears in aging eyes:
”One day, you will lose this innocence and
Forget your wisdom.”
But for now
She believes.
And for now
I remain
Silent.
Her brother does not believe,
His consciousness clouded
By reason
And calculations he is certain
Are true.
And I want to say to my son:
“One day,
You will remember
What it is
to be wise,
That everything that can be known
Must not be reduced
To the senses.
—At least, not the ones we think
We have.”
But I think
Instead
I’ll let the fairies do it.
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I love this. I wondered yesterday if the ocean really was a deva, and decided it was too vast to be something magical I could relate to. Then I went swimming and it spanked me on the behind and I knew it was telling me yes, I heard you, and silly...I am here enough to whack you on the rear. I like that and I like your poem.
Hmmm. Which do I like better? Jeff’s poetry or Jeff reading his poetry? Both are stellar. Thank you for calling out the wisdom in this way of being. I am energetically sensitive, and aware of the subtleties in energy and meaning around me. Although I find this deeply helpful, most of the rest of the world seems to overlook this or even think it’s a little weird. It’s not. Just not valued by most.