|
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1202 guests online and 3 members online |
| print friendly version | |
| to the boy. | |
| 28 April 2005 | ||||||||||
|
i was touched by a disabled child playing happily on a beach in spain. what lessons we learn everyday. A child wallowing in a sandy pool arms flaying touching the essence of the sea, his communion with being. He stands turns one eye no nose to catch the fragrance, he walks convulsive movements threaten control. A child his father encourages discovery, the rippling tide bathes his feet not mindful of his imperfection. He laughs as white foam drinks the sand the joy of the splash, he turns in convulsive movement runs to his sandy pool. The child becomes my teacher The comprehension of my persumed state of perfection rocked by the perfection of his imperfection
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||
|
|
Next item
|
|---|