Monday, February 7, 2011

for my children

i want to water my daughters
so they blossom into modest women
with patterned skirts and bright scarves
covering hair the color of coffee grounds, 
tucked away for a wedding night.

i want my sons to grow like trees
spine and knees like oak trunks,
with laughter like leaves
and hands like branches,
always reached out, 
offering protection
from vast sky 

i want them both to speak like breezes
and love like lightening, need God like
a river, water to quench a dry tongue,
to think fiercely and live happily,
a mother's prayer for her children 

to remember the texture of their father's hair
and color of their mother's teeth

i want them to own memories
entwined with the smell of cantaloupe 
and rainy nights, i want the feel
of sticky mango juice
to make them smile
i want honey to
make them remember their skin
and what it is there for

i wish for them warm springs
and cool falls, forgiving summer sun,
and kind winters
rain like powdered sugar, made to dance in
and only one hurricane,
to ensure they praise God for it all,
every day.

before their birth,
their conception,
before their mother had her hands henna'd
by singing women,
or even met their father's eyes across a room,
this is a prayer for them.


Bonnie said...

This is simply beautiful!

Shannon Bovey said...

I whole-heartedly agree with Bonnie.