Accepting eyes,

a toddler’s gaze

sweeps over me,

as I glimpse him

looking out

from the passing car

travelling the morning school run.

—

His expression is as neutral

as the whiteness of his skin,

As if,

being driven,

he were drinking in unfiltered

all the impressions of the world.

—

At the wheel was his mother,

gaze fixed,

eyes staring to the road ahead,

driving.

Yet it seemed her mind was elsewhere,

intent on an inner consideration.

Shoulders tight, knuckles white, tense on the wheel.

—

In a flash I saw

how like his mother,

how like us all,

this boy could become.

His eyes,

so accepting now,

will inevitably absorb the habits,

thoughts and perspectives that underlie

the world he sees.

And, being influenced by them,

whether for or against,

in time he will generate

his own agendas, tensions and strategies.

—

Till, one day,

no longer an innocent passenger

in his parents vehicle,

he will be driving his own car.

And yet, like his mother today,

he will have become the driver driven.

—