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My son!  My tiny son,
For which I labored
And finally won!
 
Oh, great the prize!
I see it in your tiny eyes ...
My wonderful, precious, unique surprise.

Oh, I knew you
Would be you
And God knew. 
 
But, My farthest
Imaginings did not dent
My first glimpse of you!

Cleft in chin
(How like Him!),
Beautiful skin ...
 
Features of my beloved
Can be found ...
Chubby face, so round.

And, do you bear
Resemblance, too,
Of Him?
 
Does God have
A dimple
In His chin?

Your soul, so small,
Will grow with all
We teach and tell.

Little soul,
Precious to us ...
Precious to Him!

God, help us.
The way is obscure,
Foggy, and dim.
 
Please ...
Patches of Sunlight
For us, for him,
We pray.
 
 2002 by Joan Clifton Costner

The Library

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For My Mother

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