Listening Beyond the Chaos

There's a boy in the corner with his shoes untied. Crayons on the

floor and tears in his eyes. Teacher sighs, "Here we go again,"

as he knocks down blocks like a tiny hurricane. Whispers in the room say he's

trouble on two feet but nobody asks what his heart's trying to speak.

'Cause sometimes kids shout when the words won't come. Sometimes they run when they're feeling

undone. He wasn't trying to break things. He wasn't trying to fight.

He was asking for a little help in the only way he might.

Sometimes a storm is just a message from a kid who can't explain.