The oaks and pines are all around.
There’s humus carpeting the ground.
An autumn breeze blows on the dusk
Where serenity has been found.

The last calls of departing birds
Bid adieu to the cricket strings.
A tiny one is flying now
Without using feathery wings.

She burbles, tiny hand in mine,
Warm and full of innocent life.
Her other hand is held fast in
The petite grasp of my sweet wife.

She is a marvel like a seed,
So small, yet what will her impact be?
She’s the glue our marriage did need.
She loves unconditionally.

She looks up like stargazers do
Awed to see heaven watching them.
She tells me, “Daddy, I love you,”
And my spirit can’t help but grin.

She’s caught up in a whirlwind hug,
And she giggles while I squeeze.
My eyes bid her while she’s held snug,
“Stay this precious forever, please.”

Her pure soul senses what I seek;
Her eternity understands.
She reassures me as my cheek
Is caressed by angelic hands.

Such tiny hands, and yet they bless,
Wielding a power more profound
Than weapons forged in man’s darkness,
For in them all my hope is found.