Tiny tots, little lads,
Swinging merrily, high up in the air,
No hurry, no worry, not a moment’s care.
Oblivious to current fads,
Yes indeed! This is their world,
The merriment, the laughter, the innocence, their golden hair curled.
While they enjoy this to and fro, this high and low,
Sincerely, truthfully, willingly following the swing’s oscillation,
Worry entraps me and I hope not they lose direction in this oscillatory motion,
Or just merely go with the flow,
For there will be obstacles to surmount,
And battles to be won, when they will be in the world, out
And not always will the swing’s speed match theirs.
Yet, I want to protect them forever,
But that will mean controlling the swing’s lever,
But control and protection will only make undone lessons and experiences of their later years.
So I decide to let their swing oscillate, undisturbed, uninterrupted,
And wait and watch these tiny tots, confident and talented,
But I only wish for their swing to rise higher and higher,
Swinging merrily, high up in the air,
Where the ones who reach, are rare.