I am the outlier
who is not nostalgic
about LEGO
and mostly slags it
for offensive
profit margins
and piercing
the underside
of my feet.
But as I observe
my children connect
brightly coloured bricks
into dragons and ships
and angular portraits of me,
I realize the magic
is not in the building at all.
It is the dismantling
that holds the gift.
As they reduce their creations
down to morsels of colour,
it is clear they are learning
what the Buddhists
try so hard to explain,
that because everything is impermanent,
anything is possible.