You fell to our arms
from star-filled skies,
the dream in our hearts,
the light in our eyes.
So softly you landed,
so sweetly you lay,
and we claimed you forever
that very first day.
Warm sock, you’re not…nor yet
a fuzzy slipper, but still you
found a zipper on my heart.
I wonder just how Mary felt, when visited one day
by Gabriel, who understood the role that she would play
in bringing forth the Savior and nurturing with care
the precious little baby she would soon be called to bear.
even the metaphors miss you
like that word to tie
the other words together
framing images in phrases
like worlds that co-exist
but miss each other
in a universe apart
“I’ll make a bet with you,” Dad said.
(The desert heat was roasting.)
“I’ll cook your breakfast right out here.”
I thought that he was boasting.
believe me, I adapt
carry me with you
then and now I bring
some substance
to the ins and outs
of living
Umbrellas offer solid proof
that weather’s not in vain.
Surely, a drop of rain
deserves a bit of notice.
If I should wake up and be free
of all the people watching me
and say goodbye to tightrope walking,
big top, and calliope––
then would I search the silence deep,
embrace the parts of me that sleep,
let go of cotton candy dreams,
and hold to truth that I can keep.