A certain three year old

– with amber eyes and

Corkscrew hair all left and right,

Most definitely chewing  

A butter bagel –

Fixes his eyes on the chameleon’s

Colors and

Asks, ‘Because what?’

Profound little preacher-man.

~

A certain one year old 

– copper silk wisps 

Barely-gathered into sprigtails –

Gripping fox and bear

And toddling on impossibly twiggy legs

Rules her realm: 

Parquet Floor 5B,

Its books, friends, and allies,

Except for The Dog.
 

A glory-spreader to earth’s end.

~

A certain one year old

– chosen for tempered strength

To be a second born – 

Exquisitely bronze and edible,

Naps without apology on the chest

Of the most immediate forebear.

That she would be held to sleep

Is

As autonomic as inhalation 

And exhalation. Of course.
 

A picture of faith’s courage.

~