Learning Wonder

He grasps the peeled banana, gazing at it
the way we might sweep our eyes skyward over the harvest moon.
He is awestruck by oatmeal cookies,
shocked into giggles by being handed them two at a time.
Tractors.  Soup.  The afternoon breeze.
Tell him these are not reason for pause and contemplation.

I see him bounce over the floor, his stout body running on springs,
“lama-lama-lama!” he says reaching for the fruit high on the kitchen counter.
I peel the second half of the banana and watch him carry nothing
but the weight of wonder.

What Blessing is This?

He hurls himself
onto my leg, my chest,
from everywhere in the house
he comes flying across the floors,
bare feet smacking the wood and padding the carpet;
he is laughing, or crying, or thinking as he runs,
but always he is shouting
“I Love You, Too, So Much!”
then whispering
“i love you too so much”
and he squeezes me
and then he is gone
and I will soak it in while I have him,
while he fits in my arms.