A Sense of Wonder

I think often of what kind of young men . . . and older men . . . I want my grandboys to become. In today's culture there's so much to distract their little forming hearts and minds, and so much that would impede the kind of character growth I would love to see in them. Most of what is the "norm" now to me is abnormality and aberration. I look at little boys, teenagers, and young men (young women too) today and what I see that's missing for the most part is a sense of wonder and delight, an appreciation of Beauty in its natural forms and in literature and music, the kind of bravery that is not afraid to go against the tide and act with honor and moral courage even when it's unpopular.

I look at the little face in this photo, so impatient with his Gannie's kiss because he's got more important things to do than stand still for a moment and be held by arms that love him, and I smile and think, "Oh, I hope you always have the sense that you can get on with your life and become who you were meant to be because your Gannie and the people who love you have got your back covered. . . . and that a sense of security gives you the confidence to be brave and to swim against the tide and become the person God created you to be. I want you to know what Joy is, and Wonder, and Delight, and Humility, and Honor.  I want you to be able to see true Beauty and value it . . . I want you to have a Poet's Soul."

I want you to be like the little boy in this poem below, written by my friend Chris, with you in mind, someone whose imagination is alight with goodness and sensitivity. . . someone who can see through the "real" world into the really real world . . . someone who is not earthbound. What a brave little heart the boy in this poem has . . . you just know what kind of man he will become, unless "life" gets in his way. And so today I pray for my grandones' protection and my daughter's courage too and her strength to be the kind of Mom who has raised the "little brave man" of the poem.

Read it aloud . . . you'll love the "music" in it.

Jeremiah and the Gnome 

The little boy that knew the gnome
That made the brambled wood his home
sat and wondered if he’d like
to visit, talk and read a book

And so he gathered up his things
granddad's medals, bits of strings
his favourite book, a polished stone
and wandered down along the brook

And in a whisper called his name
and after such a time, he came
and sat beside him oh so still
and gave his things a look

~~~~

They sat, ne’er talked for quite a time
watched the water tumble by
where speckled fishes sought the deep
and shared an apple in the light

That glinted softly in the brook
Read a well worn favourite book,
of castles, pirates, dragons, swords
princes black and princes white

With string and sticks and bits of bark,
They made a sturdy little ark
And floated it into the brook,
And watched it sail beyond their sight

~~~~~

Lying back they watched the sky
As lazy, wispy clouds ran by
Then made a makeshift pair of swords,
and battled in the wood

And hearing creatures rustling near,
imaged them as dragons, fear
shrank away as courage grew,
and back to back they bravely stood.

With souls so pure they bravely fought,
and gave the monsters all they’d got
knowing that their cause was just
and darkness would not conquer good.

~~~~

And none have been as brave as they,
Down by the brook that summer day,
None had been so strong and bold
And none’d been so brave-hearted

And all the while the river ran
until his mother called him home
And where the river flowed so clear
Each said farewell and parted

The boy turned for his mother's call,
The gnome was there, then not at all
And silence fell across the wood,
And off for home he started

~~~~

Arriving home to mother’s smile
She said “I’ve missed you all the while”
He told her of his tiny friend
And all their brave adventures there.

He told of ships lost out to sea,
Of serpents yellow-eyed and green
He told of knights both bad and bold
Of dragons, knaves and maidens fair.

“I’m happy you’ve had such a day,
It’s such a joy to see you play
But do be watchful in the wood
You must be careful playing there.”

~~~~

Don’t be silly mom”, he said
As he settled in his bed,
“When boats are lost in blowing gales
When schemers evil, are betraying

While sparks fly off of crashing swords,
And monsters lurk in murky fjords
While dark knights do their evil deeds
There’s dragons needing slaying.

While maidens run from thin eyed knaves
And gryphons watch from darkened caves,
And pirates steal a kingdom's gold,
There is no time for playing.”

 © Chris Earle, 2009

This poem isn't special because it has my grandson's name in the title. This poem isn't special merely because it is excellent technically. This poem is special because it has a "soul" showing through, a poet's soul, and because it says something significant about an important truth that's in danger of being lost, and it says it with a sense of delight and even fun. It says it with the same imagination and musicality that the poem is reminding us not to lose. It reminds me of poems and stories like The Velveteen Rabbit that work on two levels . . . a good "story" and a great lesson for those who will read it on a deeper level.

This poem is quite wonderful ! . . . and wonder-filled too . . .
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