Little Bird

What do you see Little Bird?

I see sunlight. I see cars driving past. I see a breeze waving leaves on the grassy front lawn.

But you see something more. You shout “dauh” at dogs I cannot find. You wave to friends hidden from my sight. You pat the window to get the attention of someone invisible.

We can spend 15 minutes on the couch, without a real toy in reach. Instead all you need is a 99 cent golden candle vase and the window to outside. Over and over again, you fall back onto the cushions, holding the vase to your mouth, and then laughing. When you move to the other end of the couch, I put the vase back on the window pane, where you find it a minute later in glee. Clutching your treasure in one hand, you talk to the world outside the window. Are you telling the story of your quest for your lost treasure? Or about my silly attempts to keep it (and you) from falling onto the ground? Or are you inviting pixies to come inside and play?

I don’t know what you see Little Bird, but I am so glad you see it. I hope you will always see more than me, more than any of us. I hope you will always find light in the darkness and treasure just around the corner.

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