To my Youngest Son on His 4th Birthday

My dear boy,

You are a gift, a compact, sturdy,
unbridled, whirlwind of loving kindness.
I love when I am caught up in your world
and your awareness, your forgiving and your forgetting.
You are big, and your name is heavy, borne by kings and lifted by saints,
lived by farmers and loved by friends, you are beloved,
you are a grand vision unfolding in the fields of our love,
ripening in the heat of God’s plans, resting in the roots of earth’s love,
a gift to me and to the world.
May you be always at rest on the wings of Christ’s love,
nuzzled beneath God’s grace and covered by Our Lady’s mantle.
May you be blessed, forever and ever and always.

An Ars Poetica

You are my gift, dear poem,
you are like my breath; you wake me,
and sing me to sleep.

You are my gift, dear poetry,
you are like my life’s blood; you energize me
and carry me on.

You are my gift, dear writing,
you are like my body; you move me
and support my soul.

You are my gift, dear Giver of gifts,
you are the Poet; you create
and you keep on creating.