I see the green sprout joyful at his play—
He looks in awe at clouds up in the sky,
A stick upheld keeps dragons yet at bay,
Then comes the wonder of a butterfly…
A shriek of laughter at some unnamed joy,
He rolls through clover with imagined friends,
Paired with his shadow, kingdoms to destroy,
And now the garden’s gate to stand and fend.
I see him now beneath the gracious sun—
Handsome, tall, and strong—the boy become a man;
Behind him all the childhood battles—won,
Before him all life’s gloried victories planned.
One day—a battle with a wooden sword;
The next—a mission to reshape the world.

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.