Friday, August 24, 2012

Golden Child

My son was born to lead
And to abide
As all good healers do
The world around.

With what he has inside
His art, his mind -
Imagination and design
Are made to fit.

Compassion is the start.
Where beings cry
His heart beats
To the sound.

This endless kindness
Needs a happy mind
Consumed with ideas
And a lightning wit.

Like birds that flock
In droves across the sky
His spirit seeks
The highest ground.

When this gentle giant smiles
The molecules travel
Homeward bound
And lamps are lit.