Beautiful

We are standing near the computer,

And I am showing my son a photograph,

Taken in the Arctic Ocean by scientists,

Of the ocean, where there are frost flowers

As far as you can see, tiny blossoms of ice,

On the surface of the freezing water, and

It is what happens when the air gets colder

Than anything else, I explain to him, how

The ocean turns into a meadow.

How unexpected, I say,

But he is not surprised,

Because my son is a child and he expects it,

The world to be this beautiful,

Later I will let him stay up until midnight,

Because this is New Year’s Eve,

The beginning of another year,

And after he goes to bed, and the house

Grows darker, I will check on him,

And his little brother, asleep, with

Their small chests rising, cavities

Of their bodies, like vessels,

And I will wish,

Wish for them,

That they will never know war,

Or how the geography of continents

Is also the topography of battle, and

Humans killing one another,

Dead bodies, slain children, or hatred,

Because they are young and they are my children,

I will wish for them,

That their world stays beautiful.

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