bright saturday afternoon

pretty curls flowing in the wind
one, two, up you go
one moment you were on your feet
next you were on your hands
hanging off a little arch
three seconds of pure, simple joy

repeat
repeat
repeat

how could you be so happy, little one?

are you an angel?
are you stranger to the world?

what can i say to you?
should i speak of the world that i know?

no,
instead i should talk of happiness, of the pure blue sky above us,
of candies and chocolates, of careless abandon in the playground,
of a child's bright eyes

.
.
.

Joie de vivre - a joy of everything.