Ah, summer…do we fully enjoy the beauty of it? This week, I present a poem that I wrote from a memory of my younger nephew when he was still freshly new to physical experience. It’s a kind of companion piece to Glad for the Day, which I wrote about my older nephew. I hope you take the time to delight in it — life, summer, family, the poem, or all of the above.
The baby, in the sandbox,
sitting cooing quiet on a summer’s day,
focuses slowly on the newness
of the sunlit world.
Then, of a sudden,
with quick little sips of breath,
the baby dips his hand in sand,
burrowing deep beneath the cool hiddenness,
waiting, breathless, eyes full of seeing, then,
lifts the back of his outstretched hand up
into the sun. The golden light catches
each tiny grain as he holds still the marvel
in his sight, such wonder opens eyes and mouth
wide, full of believing. And with the first knowing
of an infant, he raises his arm to higher slant
until all the grains come sliding down,
silver, gold, sparkling,
a starry fall of warm delight
sliding along his skin…
He gasps through baby lips,
poetry sweet and pure,
his soul full of beauty.
And then he does it again.
© 2019 Christina Chase
There once was a cripple…
who wasn't afraid to acknowledge that she was a cripple or to share her life of wonder, struggles, sorrow, and joy with perfect strangers. Here I am.
Join me as I explore the reality of divine love in the flesh, reflecting on what it means to be fully human, fully alive.