Of all the gifts you might desire,
I offer one—a wish that speaks of wonder,
bids you rest by the side of the wandering river,
watch it idle through meadows and fields, be soothed
by the opus of crickets and frogs, caressed with the velvet
dust of flight song, and feel earth’s soul.
Together, may you suckle the honey of pure wild fragrance,
lay your head on a pillow of russet leaves. Drawn by the truth
of the sun and dreams of the moon, the peace and beauty
of nature will be yours and you will reap a life simple
and magnificent forever, imprinted with love.
This is all I choose for you.
Dreams of a Wingless Child, Mary O’Connor © 2007; photo © 2013 Mary O’Connor