Swaddling Babies

Best swaddle our babies in veery song suspended on a breeze.
Light meets day in its bud, gently uncoil each hour.
They expect warm milk and kisses, we savor their sweet perfume.

Find children as fresh earth, as body of amber clay.
Layer on layer, by moments etched, we mold them home.
Best swaddle our babies with apricot sunrises that open into May.

The feast is not in the kettle when elbows dimple the cloth;
only picnics of stories so satisfy like desert rain.
They expect dragons swarming the castle, we savor paper cranes.

Decades unfold a family like an aspen clone claims its slope -
pushed open with birth and marriage, deepened in woe.
Best swaddle our babies in butterflies laced in lucky saffron.

Waking hours hold the key to Darwin explorations; we’ll set
their brilliant minds free, feathering daydreams with angels.
They expect to track a creek forever, we savor safe returns.

Raising children pours like sand for a painting, every grain counts;
they’re not ours, they belong to the water and the wind.
Best swaddle our babies with sundogs hanging in the summer sky.
They expect warm milk and kisses, we savor their sweet perfume.