Four years old

Where did you come from?
with your yellow hair and
jumpy toes
teeny huge voice and
rocket ship energy?

From me, yes.
but no.

I
claim you
yet
through the universe you popped
and I think
I
am a player in your story
not the other way around.

I
feed you
hug you
sleep you
but I’m not responsible
for your yellow-ness.

I
didn’t create this fire
wonder
curiosity
bad, bad behavior
pure, sheer exuberance
for life.

Maybe inside Saturn
there is a swirling storm
churning out little boys
with deep brown eyes
who want to
learn
negative numbers
before they can hold
a
knife.

Maybe underneath all the sand in the Sahara desert
diamond children are created
born from the force of all that weight
leaping to life
with songs
rhythms
notes
never before heard on earth.

But it is
I (why? how?) who
house you
Yes you
No you
point you
smiling with a little shrug
when people
ask me
to explain you.

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