Children

They are

Of laughter

Of smiles

Of idle dismissals and warring for property rights

They are ever mining in curiosity

They are ever needing food, needing care

They are giving hugs and needing hugs and reaching reaching

They are rage, tears and screams in a moment.

They underslept and overenergized

They are a merrygoround of fists gripping existence

Needing to be heard

And hearing things that need to be silent

They are the beginning of the story

They are the ever present middle

They are growing into people

They are growing out of shoes

They are loud when you want noise, loud when you want silence, loud when they want things

They are quiet when you aren’t with them

They are quiet when you are reading and they lean upon your shoulder and then speak over you to tell the story.

They are quiet with they’re hiding your shoes and hoping  you’ll stay for hours.

They are quick with their feet.

And quick into messes

Quick into wearing food

Quick into yelps of joy

Quick into unexpected little dangers, and just as quickly returning to safe heights, unsharp things and unbumped heads

And they heal

And they hunger

And they hold

And bring hope

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