Little Dinosaurs

...a poem

I guess for today
it comes down to the
box of little plastic dinosaurs
that Mary bought
and put in the glove compartment,
same vehicle where a car seat
is now buckled into the back
for a 4-year-old granddaughter
with a big thing for dinosaurs.

And that’s just a lot
of different kinds of love:
the car seat and
the little dinosaur surprises
and the granddaughter
and the desire to support
an imagination
that liberates the mind
even when strapped into a car
that’s taking us someplace faster
than bears thinking about,
(if ever we stop
to think about it).

But wherever we’re going,
we’re going for a reason,
hard to say what it is exactly
but it means something more,
and going this way
takes us to places
worth going together,
even places inside ourselves,
and in the end
it’s kind of a mystery
we’re exploring together
(if ever we stop
to think about it).

And about those
brightly colored dinosaurs…
well, a lot of things
can look small and silly

and maybe even kinda cheap
when we aren’t looking
close enough to appreciate
the bigness and the richness
of the feelings they express,
the smiles and the care
and everything else
that connects it all.

But that’s the real gift  
of those little dinosaurs,
that kind of bigness—
especially when they are held
in little hands.