"He seeks no worldly recognition—
He who treasures not the praise
Of man, but rather makes ambition
Of eternal trails to blaze."
Such words come clearly to my mind
When pondering the hopes I find
Within me for this boy of mine.
I watch him from across the hall,
Playing with his wooden ball.
He crawls, grips and shakes his gate,
Eager, wanting not to wait,
Ready to explore the floor
Beyond the confines of this door,
Fearing not the unknown fate.
He greets me with a toothy grin,
Reaches up and snuggles in,
His fuzzy head beneath my chin,
Now gently rocks and drifts away
With peaceful dreams of toys and play.
Holding him, I pause and pray,
Knowing just how fast these days
Will pass, like pinkish morning rays.
Sunrise skies with pastel palettes,
Beautiful though they may be,
Soon grow bold and blue and bright,
Providing light so all can see.
This sunrise season, near its height,
Will soon give way to strength and might;
His spirit, fearless, bursting forth,
Will smash through darkness like a mallet!
I pray that as this boy matures,
The light of Christ will rise within,
Shining into hearts of men,
Providing paths of life to them,
Directing all unto the source—
The fiercely loving, fighting force,
The master of creation's course,
Triumphant rider on the horse—
Jesus, whom all things endures,
Whom, alone, the soul secures.
I pray he'll seat Christ on the throne
And seek to make his glory known
To all mankind whom he encounters,
Running with those great surmounters—
Those who overcome the tomb,
Whose faith pervades all clouds of gloom.
I'm grateful for this little fellow,
Small and soft and meek and mellow,
Knowing someday soon he'll bellow.
I pray the Lord will lead his ways,
Beside him walk the trails to blaze,
Ahead of him his banner raise.
I pray my son will lift his praise
Unto the Lord for all his days,
And run the race with all his might,
Shining, shining, bold and bright.