(For Jade, Connie’s daughter)

The people who knew

And loved us as children

Are relatively few

And very special.

For though many others may come to know and love us,

These special few know and love us

To the depth and root of our being;

They know us

As gardeners know the flowers and plants of their gardens;

And they love us

With a love that already knows the most of change,

And will stay strong and true against all vicissitude.

-----------------------

So I love you, Jade.

A young woman

In whom I will always know the little girl I helped to climb the slide;

The sweet little girl

I saw playing in the sand;

A little girl

I watched forming her first tentative social ties with her peers;

A little girl

I celebrated a few Christmases with,

A few birthdays;

And in whom I am proud I early helped, if just a little bit,

To water the sleeping seeds that are awake today.

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All the best to you, precious Jade;

My good will overflows to you,

Though probably you don’t even remember me—

Me, a fading shadow of the slippery years.

I rejoice that you survived and grew,

And turned out so well.

Nothing more to say;

Nothing left to tell—

Only that I hope you have a head that understands,

A soul that feels,

And a heart that hears. 

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Written by Michael L.P, aka MLP
aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC, aka Mr. Poet
Written on Thursday, August 6, 1998  9:08 pm
Copyright © 2010 by Michael L. P.  All rights reserved