Ode To Child

O the canopy of affection behind our paintings,
the masterpiece of birth, the beauty of child,
we must remember them, can't forget.

They are the truth of our journey,
the lace in our garments
rendered as small stewards for our joy.

The shortness of our breath comes slowly,
long after we've taken our first.
we are the breathing child of Creation's slant,

of God's grant of an exactness of birth.
The truth is we love, mean to be kind,
lose our way and then come back.

This lovely child was a gift, a smiling, writhing boy,
one of us, one of thee, one of all,
the children are maps to our first breath.

The end of one signals a new beginning, not a death,
but a fresh birth, a return of our flesh-born wealth,
truth, come manifest, take us back to Peace.

Remember this child, remember them all now,
for without them, we feel alone, would be, too,
crestfallen in our quake, sorrowful, needing to laugh.

Remember them! They are We and Thee,
a painting of two, then three and four, a masterpiece!
Bless this family of the collective,

bring us to our duty to all children,
to all, that we might rise up with joy
and not sorrow without savior.

Sorrow is to be rescued from the clutches of misery.
It comes without warning, without waiting,
and it has come today, as it had the days before.

Let us remember this child of ours,
of my dear friend, of God’s desires,
of our use come full circle.

Before I finish, I want to offer my own sorrowful plea.
Let us see this child again, let us hold his memory,
bring the painting up to its wonder in all of us…

Dear friend, I am sorrowful with you.
Smile anon, bring your spirit to dance again.
I’m here, we are with you, artists waiting to hold you.

Let us not remember the things that bring us sorrow,
let us remember the things that light up our joy,
Child, Mother, Father, Child, Mother, Child, Father.

I ask of each of you the same I ask of myself,
what joy does brim in you for the child,
what use are we to ourselves, one another

if we don’t summon the best we have to offer?
The child is our animal creation, laughter’s for the spirit,
children are our spiritual result,

Our dance with child-making, creation,
life at its beginning …again,
and again and again, memory painting,

The canvas lined with little feet
making their way to the front,
big hearts beating the song of our Love,

big spirits moving to the tune of Peace,
this child is alive in us, in God without a doubt,
the child breathes yet, the child breathes.

Remember them, summon their smile when in need,
summon them in us, to never find cause to weep.
Love now, Laugh now, Live now, echoed the child.

Peace is with you.
Love is with you.
WE are with you.

Laughter is near.

© 2014 Mark Richard Prime