Extend: Backing Up

Little fish, little fish
Pretending to swim
Like this,
Underneath
My paternal Grandmother’s chair,

Little fish, little fish,
Sometimes I wish
I could go back to
That imaginary aquarium,

For those were happy times:
She looking out for me
And me loving her for it.

She watching me at play
And enjoying it too,
Playing along with my games
And loving it and little me.

But ‘tis so long ago,
I barely recognize
That little one,
Where did that all go?

Is that little one still there,
Underneath that chair,
Peering out from underneath
At Grandma’s loving smile?

Is Grandma still there,
Looking down from the chair
At the little child
Looking up lovingly,

Playing eternally,
Joyfully participating
In infinity’s unfolding,
Marveling at everything,
Never minding anything?