You were little, and then you were not – my baby boy; missed you a lot. In between our minds, next we knew it was teen-time; lost time and more blindness; leaving hurt all around. Love swirling – never ending, never bending; came without bounds…taking root, no longer at the foot, rising tall – can’t understand about the fall. Stepping it off – make the most of grace and all.
Man, man -truly grand to see me in you. By the hour the power of children creating time lines and mine kinds; just like you when you were me all over again. And so it begins to dawn that the best – always the best, that’s true – was given to you.
Copyright (c) Frank Doughton and Roads, Paths, & Trails. 2015