A child is many things
many more things than offsprings
progenies of flights & failures not yet known
regardless of whether you know it or not
you are perpetually
always
ever
pouring yourself
into your young, so…

I am my father’s art & my mother’s music

Looking upon humans
and their nature
I find that

Early on
in the whisper-soft, underhanded attack
that doubt declares on allegory
Do the weary start to sway
‘neath the gusts of tribulation
‘til that final blow – however slight – sends the soul on a fall
Into sorrow
And out of faith in the Lord…

When, though
once the deafening din
of those hallowed horns
come ripping through the universe
Do the wretched start to buckle
‘neath the bounty
titanic in size
sonorous in title
in refusal of any name other than the blessing that is salvation
Give the kneel a try
And believe?