Tiny sprouts of flowers are peeking through the ground. The trees are full of tender leaves reaching for the sun. The animals around us seem restless and aware, The time has come for frolic; nesting time is here.
Birds are soaring in the sky, as busy as the bees. Looking for the perfect spot way up in the trees.
A home for eggs that soon will hatch, so baby birds can grow, And sing a springtime melody amidst the melting snow.
A fox, a deer, a little skunk wipe winter from their eyes. They take a look around them at springtime’s sweet surprise.
Winter’s cold has blown away, nature proudly wears, The gleaming glow of newness as renewal fills the air.
One evening back in 1999, I was leading my horse, Roo back to his stall from the crossties where I had just finished grooming him, when my son Andy walked into the barn.
“Hey mom,” He called, “I thought I would find you here.”
We struck up a conversation.
Throughout his childhood, I would sit at the foot of this boy’s bed every single night, rubbing his feet, while he told me about his day. Now that he’s too big for me to tuck him in, Andy still seeks me out, sitting at the end of my bed and we’ll talk for at least a half hour.
After securing Roo in his stall, I turned toward my son. He wrapped his strong arm around my shoulder, my arm encircled his waist. Gosh he’s getting big; I thought noting how he towered over me. Together we left the barn and made the trek through the grass back to the house stopping on the drive next to the garage.
“Yeah,” Andy said when we reached the drive, “I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
I hugged him holding him tight, enjoying the covering of his love.
Andy bounced a basketball as we stared up at the sky. He was filled with the wonder only the universe can inspire and shared his thoughts with me, and in that moment, I felt so close to him, like the luckiest Mom in the world.
After going inside, we parted ways. I began my nighttime ritual preparing for bed, submerged in the warmth and love of my son.
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep until I took pen to paper and wrote down the following poem formulating in my head.
“WISDOM’S FACE” The stars at night, the moon shines bright, With just the faintest speck of light— Traces from dusk’s pallet stretch across the sky. A blinking planet causes, you to pause And ask, “Could this be Mercury or Mars?” The splendors that your eyes behold, Embed within your heart and soul, And soon you find your senses are Enthralled with the wondrous creations of God. The basketball clutched in your hand, Your face holds traces of a man. The little boy now fades away, The childish carefree days of play, Replaced with questions men have asked for centuries, While caught in thoughts inspired by God’s magnificence and awe. Standing still under the sky… Dusk’s sweet decent, night’s early rise. The peaceful quiet, twinkling scene. The call of nature’s symphony. Yet, in your mind, my precious son, You wonder why tragedies come, Like pain, destruction, death, remorse. You question why the fall of man. “His Word reveals His truth, His plan. “So find your answers there and place “Your trust in His amazing grace.” I listen as you share with me, What’s on your heart, the things you see And how this moment moved you so. I want you son to always know, How much I love and hold you dear. Your strong arms hold and pull me near, You say, “Hey mom, look up at space At all the things that He creates. This world is an amazing place!” I smile and listen to the song, That Petra sings as you talk on. I smile, and utterly embrace, This growing man with wisdom’s face.
Tenderly the heavenly Father Gazed upon His sleeping daughter. Safe and restful was her slumber. Not a sound would dare disrupt her.
In the quiet night unmoving Angels kept their watchful duty. As He watched, His heart was filled with love.
Then a tiny little stirring Filled the room with urgent mewing. Capturing the girl’s attention, Summoning her warm affection.
Eagerly, her arms encased him. Lovingly, her eyes embraced him, Cradling, most tenderly, her son.
Snuggling to his mother’s bosom. Drawing warmth from milk that soothed him. Satisfied, his tiny body calmed.
Reaching for his mother’s fingers, Holding tightly, clinging to her. While he nursed, she gently stroked his hands.
With fingers formed so small, so perfect, Yet, with strength—they had a purpose, In the future path this child would walk.
She prayed that God would lead and guide him. Asked for health and peace to find him. As the Father heard, He sang a song.
The love that emanated from Him, Filled the room, encamped around them. Settled gently on the girl and child.
Her heart was filled with deep emotion, Full of blissful sweet devotion, For this precious babe within her arms.
His little mouth sucked slower now. With milk-stained lips, he gave a smile.
His eyes were studying her face. With innocence and trust he gazed, Until his sleepy head began to nod.
In loves sweet songful harmony, There came to them, the gift of peace. It wrapped around their earthly forms. It soothed her mind; it touched her soul.
And then the pleasant thought of sleep Again, descended sweet and deep…
She hugged her baby close and dear And whispered to the Father’s ear, “I’ve never felt Your Breath so near to mine!”
