The sight of him

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The sight of him, looking out of the window, is like the presence of God.
His cheeks sit warm and plump on his little face:  plums curving perfectly in the sun;
his lips, puffy and glistening, sit above his small chin:  dew-covered honeysuckle in the morning.
The chair cradles his little-boy body, strapped in and buckled up, a toy truck clenched in his hand, one resting in his lap, and he watches the tree tops and the clouds;
he is lulled into sleepiness by the van’s vibrating lullaby.
When he blinks, I watch the lashes – they are soft as down and slow-moving,
dandelion seeds falling to the ground
where everything begins.

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2 responses »

  1. I love this!! Fantastic!!! Especially the ending ” they are soft as down and slow-moving/ dandelion seeds falling to the ground/where everything begins.” How incredibly beautiful!! “where everything begins.” opens up the poem and is really nice to end with. The first line really draws me into the poem. The details of your baby are so darling and precious. What gifts. What joy to be able to see them, enjoy them, be grateful for them and to express them. May you continue to be open to our Lord’s grace and beauty! Thank you for sharing your talents and gifts…All love and light to you…

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