Pleasant babbles float around;

cries of demand, not those of despair.

 

Toddling steps on soft mats;

those curious fingers, querying every item in sight.

 

Lovely eyes, seeking connections;

the pretty ears that hear more than we know.

 

Colourful display of apparels;

that bonding smell of babyness

 

All of you little angels I can see.

All your tiny sounds I can hear.

 

But I need you to go to the houses of my friends,

where they have none.

 

Go fill their calm.

Go create sweet disruptions in their homes.

 

 

 

Written from the text prompt of Hour 14.