We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
We comb our hair, and brush our brows, enjoy a little mirth. The calendar before us bows. Our life we've lived in worth. Our eyes are open to the world. A little boy looks out. He needs a set of arms, unfurled, to bring his hope about. "Let's sit and rest a little while upon this porch and list to birds and chimes, that make us smile in soft-toned peace and bliss." "Oh, Yeah. That's what I wanna do. I'll lie down on your lap, and in a minute, maybe two, I'll take myself a nap." The days of youth in this boy lives, unknowning present care. The view my kitchen window gives shows sun and joy out there. I smooth the chesnut locks, unseen to other eyes but mine, protecting him from all that's mean, from hearts so hard and blind. In gentleness of trust, unmoved, in long breathes, deep, he sleeps. Some days long past must be reproved, but God, the Just One keeps. "Are you my Dad?" He's now alert. "In some ways, though not all. You need a dad. Your heart is hurt. A strong man hears your call." "But you are strong. You're just right here. You'll be a dad to me." These wisdom words, so soft and clear, have the needed power to free. To be a man, the daily choice, protects the child within to give this one a fearless voice, my long-remembered twin. by Jay O’Toole on September 8th, 2020 |