B e i n g  G o r g e o u s

by Regina Butler


His feet barely noticeable covered with the day’s task in a dirt mound.
Running, running, running, toward…
the joy of splish, splash, sudsy, soapy glory.


Plunk…Plunk…eleven month old toes into the warm sea of bath time.
Eyelids fluttering, flickering away the excess fun.



Ten toes pushing, kicking, spraying a current of waves.
Hands clap, clap in delight, bubbles foam, surrounding each digit.



Whoops! Plop! The slippery square plunges, gravity pulls it downward,
little fingers swishing in search of the sudsy treasure.


***


His face lit up in wonder, enjoyment, questions, amusement.
A mind, exploring, growing, and calculating.
Running, running, running, toward…


The joy of climbing, knowing, expressing, and attaining
A heart pattering, throbbing, beating, and then a thump.


Whoops! Plop! The heart sinks and gravity pulls it downward.


Ten fingers grasping, clutching, building, and working.
His hands and heart searching for a divine treasure.