he does not fall
lives in the land of tilt
the brightest crayon in the box
but can't find his way out
they say he is like this
wild eyes can't connect
can't scream loud enough
for anyone to hear
a child who has never said
mommy
daddy
I want, I need, please
he is rocking now
they wring their hands
what shall we do
we've done everything
what will he become
is this all he will know
what is he thinking
does he think
he loves the smell of books
addicted to the turn of the page
he knows something is there
we know something is there
but how do we get to it-
moonbeams aren’t waiting for invitations
or understanding
I stayed and watched and listened
soon one wild eye met mine
soon one timid hand touched mine
and in his patient smile
we were both just fine
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