The Gift of Being a Father

Wrapped in brown skin floats my true gift
the one I would ask for if only I had one wish
Will he have my eyes, my ears, my head, or my nose?
are the questions I’m guessing the answers to as he grows.

He broke water rushing me out of work to catch him
to ensure the first hands he lands in carries a love filled blanket
Shivering and shaking, he’s history in the making
a testament to God’s presence and the impact He’s making.

Resting on my chest our hearts beat as one
it’s euphoria, this must be where dreams come from
Santa can never provide this type of treasure
and I ain’t seen no stork who swoops down on my level.

I’ve been blessed with a responsibility, I deserve it and I cherish it
no one can separate what is created through merit
We mold his mind combined with his mother’s and mine
a prophecy filled, my miniature sign of the times.