I have come to love
the sacred of the days.
That early morning light;
The whispered hum of hours
Not yet begun.
Holding within it a promise
Of wonder within the earth,
My two miracles beside me,
In their innocence, in their joy.
Lives unencumbered by the burdens,
Of this world in which we live.
Wanting to pass down the virtues,
Of all the generations past.
All the goodness and the love,
That I know lies within humanity.
These are the sacred minutes,
To live right now.
This, here, thank you.
I like this poem, a lot, but that's all I'm going to say for now. I'm still trying to decide if I want "waking up" face to be hyphenated or not. This morning I'm leaning towards no hyphen: "Ford's tiny squishy waking-up face that bursts into a smile when he sees me." Nope, just doesn't scan as well. :) :)
ReplyDeleteThe most perfect poem addition!
Delete