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5.21.06

Do not toss the gentle child

on the bucking waves of fear

she must sleep in the dark busom of faith

Steer him clear of icebergs

noting glacial shards as you squeeze by

then pull the cover up to his chin

Hold their hands when they wake

and show them the sun, the clouds, the rain and the sky

Line their pockets with small screwdrivers and little maps

Fill their lunch boxes with an apple and a chocolate bar

Moor their sailboats lightly

And when the wind is just right

let them set sail with a smile

and a strong rudder