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Monday, December 5, 2011

My Old Umbrella

My son, the first years of your life,
you and I go together day by day.
Sometimes the sun will shine,
and you'll be frisky, glad and gay.
But at times the light wears out,
the rain is coming in.

I don't know why it is, my boy,
but my umbrella is not as bright and good
as others' you might have seen.
Perhaps God was in a joking mood,
when he handed mine to me?
It opens well and can stand a storm,
but rain keeps seeping through.
We won't stay dry and warm, my boy,
when the clouds are full and blue

Hush, let me share a secret now.
While other kids
keep their neat shields free of stain,
we both sneak out into moonlit nights.
In search of muddy pools,
those remnants of the rain.

We'll turn my 'brella upside down
and when the  moonlight strikes the pool,
we'll sail into the white moon glade.
To enter a world sublime.
Where your soul's  the creator king,
running wild and free

We'll stay until your smile grows strong.
Than we go back, embrace our destiny.
Knowing that when the rain is gone,
there'll  be pools of mud.
just there for you and me.

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