Delight in a Puddle

There was never a puddle
a puddle she would not splash
With glee, delight
No matter my admonishments.
Does she hear them?
Does she hear my complaints?
about her clean dress
her nice shoes
my washed floors

For how could that matter?
How can that carry
carry the weight that is lifted when the droplets glisten in the air?
As they fall around her feet
As they flee the gravity of her stomps.

Her delight, her glee
How can I interrupt?
How can I instruct on this world?
We must not splash
so the floors stay washed
so her shoes stay nice
so her dress stays clean

For what is more clean?
What is more pure?
Then the peaceful fire in her eyes as
she relishes in the beautiful mess
the mess that God left for her in the rain?

by Jimmy V.

art by Cassie Jean

One Comment Add yours

  1. Laura Foley says:

    Beautiful words, art and sentiment


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