i decided to give my first born the pet-name Boo-Boo. he used to love having his picture bible being read to him in bed. the innocence of toddlers talking, listening to stories and then drifting to sleep is very endearing.
“Boo-Boo’s” battered Bible upturned,
pages creased by pudgy finger prods;
middle eastern pictures absorbed, learning
about heaven’s sure hope, God’s
creativity; studious chatter as he nods,
seeking affirmation, parental assent,
gob-stopper dummy smudging accent.
“Boo-Boo” drifts now to slumberland,
soft toy leopard watches and prays,
earlier hugged by grasping hands;
muffled metallic music, pots and pans
being noisily sorted and stored away;
the oven door opens, baked bread
aroma ascends stairs to Boo-Boo’s bed.
“Boo-Boo” drifts on a tide of dreams,
blond cork-screw curls lap his face,
blankets whisper lullabies, beams
from landing-light add poignant grace;
i quietly pray in this sacred space;
background choirs sing in minor keys
– should i best observe on bent knees?
painting by Joy Elliott, grandmother of “Boo Boo”