Who is this boy-child
so deftly climbing
across driftwood bridges
that cross between boulders?
At dawn and dusk
with the tide's ebb and flow,
you go. You grow.
My shining son,
among the rocks your shadow
plays. Brilliant. Bright. Oh,
that I could hold
this sweet moment. Lost,
in a flickering of light. Alas,
my hands cannot keep you.
They can only guide,
you, barefoot and smiling wide
with wonder, at the world. And I,
who have born this life;
now, bear witness
to this crossing over.
From me, into You
Rise, son. Rise...
