The Collection Jar

We wait for the words, I'm sorry
So expectant, we forget the goal:
For light to pour forth from the eyes of our children
A brilliant spear of sun

Preoccupied with ego, the fear of ego, the eradication of ego
We walk around collecting sorry from the mouths of our babies like rare stamps
We take countless apologies as proof of responsibility
We steal them like pebbles from a rushing river shore and seal them in glass jars
Then we wonder at the weight of burden, when it slopes the shoulders and lowers the gaze

We wonder, how do we summon their self worth from the depth of innocence, how do we sing to their ancient radiance?

Shatter the jars, I say
Disavow your collection
Let each sorry flutter out an open lid and join the dancing elements

Look into the child's eyes and offer gratitude
Model the ability to respond with reverence
So that slowly, the child learns a sense of weightless being, a connectedness as infinite as ocean waves

Through this shared breath, the world exhales
the distraction evaporates
the realization that we do not owe each other anything, that we are simply blessed, deeply blessed,
to be together, 
it sets the wild love free

We need their wild love

​