This Is This

Here’s another on from celebrated Armenian wordsmith Jeff Nicols (who you really should check out, by the way). It was written for his son on his first birthday. It’s kind of simple, but it’s got a nice music-box feel to it.

Small hands have never reached so far nor eyes beheld such trust.
No little heart has beat so strong a rhythm into us.
No words yet formed but music rings from such a tiny voice.
It hurts sometimes to love so much, sometimes we have no choice.

Also on This Is This
Me: “Where are you?”
Her: “In kitchenware. Where are you?”
Me: “I’m in pants, but I’m nearly done.”
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This entry was posted on Thursday, December 15th, 2005 at 11:02 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed, or leave a comment yourself.