children laugh and play. peace is found in friendship. baby girl gets passed around, soaked in love. that man and i dispute, lovingly, over the children saying mama or dada first. the one that is a daddy's boy to the core? well, he said my name first. we grin the sly crooked grin, wrinkles around the eyes and we both know, love. endless love. the kind lionel richie sings about but only few experience.
i'm on edge a bit.
their limbs far to close to the flames burning hot. they want to play with it. dabble in it. get as close as they can, feeling the warmth without harm. no fear, having never been burned. only we can see the danger. the ones that have already trod this path.
there is value in age. though mine out races the others seeking the next decade with a vengence. i find myself grateful for lessons gifted with age.
don't catch that twig on fire.
don't get to close.
if you get burned it will hurt very badly.
still they dabble, because it's fun playing with fire.
one day they will appreciate wisdom passed down, but rarely in the moment.
*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday