Tag Archives: parents


In a world tattered and torn,
a world battered and worn;

In a world of sorrow and pain,
a world of horror and shame;

In a world where I weep for the evil we do,
a world where I grieve for what sisters and brothers endure;

In such a world,
I give thanks.

In this world,
I give thanks
for hope and faith
for love and grace.

In my world,
I give thanks
for tender mercies and boundless joy,
courage unexpected and strength unforeseen.

In our world,
I give thanks
for a baby’s first cry
and a parent’s first smile.

I give thanks
for life.

23 January 2014
New York, New York

Joann, Mike, and Austin
Roja, Joel, and their newborn daughter whose name I will list as soon as they tell me
And all new parents and babies

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Sad and mournful

They lose their fight to hold back tears
as they struggle for the words to say goodbye.
An awkward final embrace, then
a flight attendant gently takes the child’s hand.

At jetway entry, the child turns.
From under a mop of yellow curls,
red-rimmed eyes look where the father stands.
Brave waves exchanged,
the child continues toward the plane.

The father steps to the window,
presses his hands, leans his forehead.
To support himself?
To try to pass through the glass?
Condensate forms underneath his nose.
He stares at the plane as passengers embark.

The jetway retracts,
the plan backs away.
Until it disappears from view,
the father’s fixed gaze follows.
Then, and only then,
he slowly turns,
rubs his eyes,
and leaves the gate.

19 July 2011
Gate C38
Denver International Airport

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