Tomorrow's promise

What can I give you, Baby?
Tomorrow's charms…
Comfort and safety and shelter...
A father’s arms.

I'll give you grass underfoot, dear Baby,
paper and string...
Beginnings and What-ifs and Somedays,
grown from the simplest things.

You'll have earth-scented rain in April,

puddles and muck…

A search for a rare kind of clover,

timing and luck...

Watch as the leaves rust and redden,
summer to fall...
Seasons to measure your time by,
delight in them all...

I’ll give you laughter and kindred spirits,
four-legged ones too…
And hobbies and pastimes and passions,
a thing to create…
something to do.

Whoever you grow to be, Baby,

If you build, write, heal or teach,

Whatever your dreams,

may they find you

within your reach.

I want you to know the affect of all things
long after they’re gone…
After the shifting and swaying has settled

Hope flickers on...

Mostly I’ll give you this promise,

binding and long…

I promise you’ll always know you are loved…

Loved--

like a note loves a song.
There are people who love you already,
steadfast and true...
A family whose circle is waiting,
completed by you.