The Youngest Child, a Poem

A poem, dedicated to someone with autism, translated…

~~To Shu-Wei, for Our Days of Attending Do-Bao School…

1.

Before the Windowsill, the Colorful Songs Were Planted Down

Which You’d Described, Using Your Pupils

The Youngest Child is Also, the Oldest of All Gods

2.

Shu-Wei’s Palms in a Forest

Clapping to the Left, and Clapping to the Right

The Kingfisher Flew Out of the Light with a Leaf in Its Beak

The Wings Were Covered by the Vines from the Tropics

Extended to the Windowsills of Mrs. Han’s Home

With your Left Hand You’d Lifted it Up, Picking with Your Right Hand

Shu-Wei’s Palms are Like a River

The Tones Dripped onto the Valleys, the Lands of This Island

The Musical Lights Made the Golden Narcissus Bloom

Like the Songs of the Lakes, Like the Autumn Season

Shu-Wei’s Pupils are bright Like Zen

Curled Over the Endless Night Skies

Where He Hears the Soothing Sound of His Mother’s Voice

The Youngest of Young Children Portrayed the Innocence of God

For Those Ready to Enter—

They’d All Contemplated on Their Looks

3

We’d headed to the East Coast to Sketch in the Midst of the Golden Rice, the Rain Came from the Clouds, the Ancient Dreams Hatched, the Child Saw that Valley in the Misty without a Name—

He’d Gone Past the Protection Zones of His Dreams; Suddenly, it Became, this Huge, Crystal Clear Mountain; in a Moment’s Time, the Claire De Lune of Debussy Became Clearer—and Formosa Unrolled, Like a Scrolled Up Painting

Trekking the Island, the Youngest of All Children Also Sang that Happy, and Childish, the Most Colorful, of the Ancient Tunes

So, this is marking the passage of a trip around the island with a child with autism, and, this child experienced the world in his own unique way, and the adults around him just allowed for him to experience the world as he should.