Ten Seconds in Rapture

A poem about a boy.

There he is (in all his glory) helping somebody carry a box across the room.
He turns and sees me standing here in the hall.
The box falls in mid-stride leaving the other kid helpless.
Arms outstretched he comes right at me.
The awareness on his face, the intensity in his eyes.
This ought to be the only expression for a creature to ever gaze into.
Now I know he cares.
It only takes three vast fluid strides before I'm overcome.
Wrapped in sincerity and affection.