SHARING WITH INNOCENCE
I'm painting a picture of rainbows
for a son that I have yet to meet.
Creating a legend. . . .
My sandy-haired child,
Sun-touched little boy,
His world is a place full of colors.
He laughs with the yellow I made.
He sleeps in the green I created.
He lives in my big purple daydream.
My music can lift him up,
and it makes him fly.
On the wind, my small child,
yet to be born,
can tumble on the clouds
and drift on the wind
in the world I made.
In the morning I pick him an orange.
Together, we taste the sweet nectar.
He tastes the sun in the fruit.
We can see the images
in the raindrops.
They land in a mist on our yellow hair.
We watch the water flow
from streams down small waterfalls.
At night we see small points of light.
I teach him the ways of wishing on a star.
He has nothing to wish for.
I want to give him everything.
We sleep in the sand.
No blankets, because it is warm here.
We share our love.