Your children do not see you are the rock beneath their feet.
Their window on the world, they look through you to those they meet.
They notice your provision only when it might fall short,
And thrash out all their feelings without giving you a thought.
But underneath their feet is where you catch them when they fall.
They view life with their minds framed by your worldview on it all.
They carry with them something of your forethought every hour,
And your secure embrace is what they need to grow and flower.
My child, let my love be for you the rock on which you stand,
Your needs are met by all that was created by my hand.
There's nothing you can say or do to lessen my embrace;
The love you bear your children is an echo of my grace.
So be their rock and comfort and their guide and compass too,
And lead them daily in my love and you will point them true.
This poem was a finalist in the February 2018 poetry contest