Autistic

Autistic. Among these cheerful busy young You quieter stand. Their smiles are wide, embracing, Yours are grave. Between brief bursts of frenzy You retrace, With slow persistence, patterns Of your own Alone. To fondly watching parents Their child’s bright words and gestures say "Watch me. Establish my small place with you. Lift me. Swing me. I am free. Within the loving circle of your arms No harm Can unlock your attention. And your calm My Balm." Changeling - you offer nothing. The empty gaze Sees through us, to some place We may not share. Our care Unwanted there. What are these distant spaces Where you seem Active, and speechless in some dream? Beyond salvation. Beyond love. Removed. Play you with gods or with the stars? Dimensions so remote from ours. O golden boy, We pray That your far ploys Bring joy.