fostering growth

high horizon dark before sunrise:

predators weighing the odds

black fur wet with dew

little life desperately calling

searching for familiar warmth,

thirsting for milk

so in need of help.

shapes taking form on the edge of earth:

ponytailed trucker bleary-eyed

steel-toed boots damp on grass

rough hands tenderly reaching

searching for the crying one,

thirsting for time

so wanting to help.

september sun climbing the sky:

daughter's mother-heart soft to the story

red van billowing dust

children hoping with abandon

searching for meaning to share,

thirsting to give drink

so humbled to help.

low horizon sinking into shade:

baby bottle making do

grandsons loving with eager hands

three weeks of life wrapped in a towel

finding warmth in human arms,

drinking to tomorrows shared

so helped, all of us.

and the ponytailed trucker smiles,

strokes his beard,

shares this meditation:

"Therefore, laying aside all malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all evil speaking,

as newborn babes, desire the pure milk of the word, that you may grow thereby,

if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is gracious."

- I Peter 2:1-3


(introducing Super-Winston Little-Einstein Snot-Muffin!

once we have nursed him to strength, we will return him

to my parents' farmhouse, where he will obtain many

cuddles and many mice, i'm sure!)

(oh, and my dad will call him "Boots".)

grow with us: http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/