Early Morning Hours
Speak louder, dear, for I can’t hear you.
Speak clearly, child, for I can’t understand you.
Speak respectfully, child, or I won’t listen.
Lower your voice and watch that tone with me.
Children are meant to be seen and not heard.
Children are born in sin.
But then again
Doesn’t every seed start with its own root?
Doesn’t the sun come up every morning?
Doesn’t the child smile in response to smiles?
Won’t being heard help a child speak respectfully?
Won’t positive guidance lead to positive actions?
Children are not born in sin.
Children germinate like seeds
when given the nutrients needed.
13 thoughts on "Early Morning Hours "
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” Children germinate like seeds ”
Yummy.
Thanks, Coleman.
Melva, Love the structure of your poem, the contrasting views, the questions asked, and the declarative ending: “Children are not born in sin.
Children germinate like seeds
when given the nutrients needed.”
Amen!
Karen, thanks for your kind words. So good to know where your heart is.
Makes me recall the arrogance of adults toward children. So much disrespect for children by those who demand respect without earning it.
So too true.
I keep thinking/hoping every generation gets better, even if all don’t.
Love the comparison/reality of orders and questions that highlight adults and children. Well crafted!
Thanks, Sylvia. Questions are always good.
***but then again*** the ever important questioning!
Yes, ever important!
What words of wisdom in your closing
I agree with this wholeheartedly. Thank you for putting into such beautiful words.
I can hear the contrasting voices of (perhaps) two mothers from different times…