A Child’s Mysteries

[Note to Michael and Jenny:
I wanted to say a few words to you on this day, in this poem,
which is dedicated to you, called “A Child’s Mysteries”.]

A CHILD’S MYSTERIES

What is this hope I feel, that steadies my nerves.
Tightens my frame with resolve, lifts my head up high,
Concentrates my gaze, so that I look ahead without fear,
To life’s sweet mysteries?

Hope is that flame, ardent and yellow, which is
Cradled in the wax of life’s experiences.
You burn with hope, like lighted candles.

What is this spirit I know, that takes my breath away
When I dance in wonderment at this miraculous life?
I lift my arms and knees in praise and adoration and
Dance before the lordly lady of life.
Life is as mysterious as a loved one’s face, embraced

By shadow. Even a solitary grey bird pecking at crumbs
On winter’s doorstep can, in a flap of wings,
Launch itself into flight, to lean against the chill wind–
Supreme, confident and joyful.
Spirit is the wind which fills your wings, carries you
Through life’s dark nights, out over tumultuous seas.
You are light with flight, like gulls under full wing.

Brian Devlin
Weston
December 10, 1985

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