sort it out

Her sturdy fingers move

the wooden blocks 

from bin to floor

and back to bin:

the industry of one

year olds, a crucial task.

It looks like play,

but watch her face:

intent. Intentional,

her focus broken

just for bursts

of brief delight:

The blue block fits

inside the red bin!

And she sees that

it is good.

 

This is her very work

and she will 

do it well

and long past

babyhood, this careful

sort. Good from

bad, in from out,

meaning from

nothing, created

from Creator.

So sort the bits now,

little sister,

sort it out.

Teach me again

to put things in

right order,

so to find 

the boundary lines,

like blocks and bins,

in all their

pleasant places.