Restoration Ode

Our souls, dear child, have grown scornful,
our hearts are fastened on Wall Street,
and our minds, fractious, intemperate, are furious
with any headline we didn’t write.

Draw near us, untie us, depolarize us,
shine across our fallen years and restore us.

Postage stamp photo, toothless and beaming,
Tonka truck wheel at the back of a drawer,
and in the attic, one-eared Mr. Floppy restore us.

Forgotten child, visit us, anoint us,
mend our raw hearts with the skinned-knee bandage
and kissed-knuckle ointment of a tender memory; mother

brushing off dirt, smoothing our dress,
eyes bright and brimming, mirroring
springs of innocence.

Minnow, turtle, crayfish, marsh,
Yellow-headed blackbird, towering bulrush
raft and creek and called-to-lunch restore us.

Dew-clotted lawn of our neighbourhood park,
jungle gym, curvy slide, big swing under-duck,

beaver pond, leaf pile, snow angel reach us,
Anti-I-Over, Fox-and-Goose, Hide-and-Seek teach us,
Cat’s cradle, Side straddle, wood dreidel restore us.

Let everything that plays restore us,
otters, dolphins, wind chimes, nursery rhymes,
flutophones, ukuleles, and the melodies of stars.

Ripple Chips, Milk Duds, Bazooka Bubble Gum,
Walt Disney, Ed Sullivan, Fred and Wilma Flintstone,

banana math, bug stories, connect-the-crazy-dots,
ocean life word search, bold-crayoned world map,
social studies restore us.

Divine child, break us, salve our eyes, awaken us,
set our bones with a sky-blue plaster cast,
signed, Your possible world of potential neighbours.