Note: I wrote this many years ago and just found it when I was going through some old writing pieces. I had a story about a young mother who had had an incredible experience with your her young daughter. This poem emerged from that story.
From the Mouths of Babes
“…even babes did open their mouths
and utter marvelous things…”
“How old is God?”
asked the four-year old girl
one day early in the morning.
The nurturing mother did not answer,
could not answer
but urged her sweet one to pray
on humble, bend knees.
Some time passed;
the young girl returned—
with another question:
“How long and old is infinite?”