Sunday, January 8, 2012

My Dreams

Sliding
Floating
Waiting patiently
Careful movements
Quietly entering
This world.
I dreamt
He
Would be
A son.
First born,
A gentle soul;
Fearfully and
Wonderfully made.
I loved him
Deeply
Before
He knew what
Love was.

Kicking
Somersaulting
Arms akimbo
Feet askipping.
Tumbling into
This world.
Before she had
A name
She was a dream
And I named
That dream
So that when
She came to be
She would have
Always had
A name.
True to
Her name,
God has
Graced her
With a son.

1 comment:

  1. I wonder if this is one of the poems you'll put into that book for your grandson? Just lovely about your own children, to keep for the future for the grandchildren!

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