When You're Five

When you’re five,

the world is your oyster.

When you’re five,

you take for granted

that wonders like cotton candy

and chocolate fountains

inhabit your world . . .

that loved ones will shower gifts on you

and sing your praises

When you’re five,

you can greet the tiny bush

among the large ones

as the fellow child it is

expecting smiles instead of odd looks

as you crouch down to speak in

your gentle voice to it

When you’re five,

rain clouds obscuring the moon

from your binocular search

of the night sky

is the biggest crisis of your day

as you cry fitfully to the sky, “bad rain clouds!”

Life is good when you’re five,

or it ought to be.

In honor of a beloved grandson turned five and all the children for whom joy is a too-rare commodity.  May you all be blessed this day and always.