Jonathan Michael

Jonathan Michael

by

Richard Vance


Jonathan Michael came to me,
A son,
And one not easily described
by words of prose or poetry.

A once small creature
Brought here from a place of love,
So alike in many ways,
It's oft been said,
A carbon copy of the mold,
But oh so different too.

He learned to walk and talk
So very early on,
To take a very different path,
A kindred spirit, nature’s flow,
who grew to be a man, you know.

He flies alone so strong and free,
At home with eagles soaring high above,
Or gliding slowly with the doves,
Unrestrained, adventuresome,
And certainly in his mother’s eyes
Can do no wrong, it’s true.

In time, he found a need to venture forth
To find his canyons far away,
A chosen purpose in the light,
To spread a special kindness, special love,
For all of those who came around,
Received the gift that only comes
Straight from a selfless heart.

A most sincere and gentle soul,
No chains or strings can ever tie for long,
And to those who find him just by chance,
The briefest conversation made,
Or have the luck
To simply cross his path,
Can say they’ve met a child of God.

He, who knows no other way
but to walk among the trees and mountains,
The fragrant Daffodils of life,
A special purpose surely he was
Meant to carve into the rock.

My love for him fills up my soul
And comes back to me a hundred fold,
A prouder father there could never be,
To me,
He’s all a son could ever, ever, be.