Lyra and Existentialism

Bouncing off the kitchen tiles
Your little, bare feet crave sensation.
Disdainer of footwear – nothing
Will cut you off from the earth,
What you can learn from it
Through your toes.
Everything new, you seize,
So when I told you, me and your mummy
Used to make our tea like this, together,
Years ago, before you were born, you stopped,
Mid bounce. You peered sideways at the kitchen tiles
Like a fox, as if you could peer through a crack in time,
And fathom this out, this concept
Of a world before you were in it.
Then eternity opened up, spread out backwards and forwards
In a great wave, an infinity of potential
And you, hunched, coiled, still grinning
Ready to leap in.