A first glimpse of a newborn child,
Adapting to a different life.
A baby's smiling, wordless sounds,
Responding to a parent's voice.
The sweet smell of an infant's hair,
Held while raveling sleep's cobwebs.
A toddler's questioning, backward glance,
As a world's limits expand.
A youth's wide eyes and arched eyebrow,
For concepts newly visualized.
Unsung, unheralded happenings;
All these things, and many more,
Performed a billion times today...
And tomorrow, as before.
Harry Haigh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/truth-is-4/
