Let this be the last time worry stalks you.
Let your children grow and grow.
Let the waiting be short
for doctors and lines.
Let there be no doctors, no lines.

Let there be time, acres of time.
Let us carry baskets of time.
Let the times be easy. Let history end.
Let time roll on like thunder
into an easy mist.

Let us be normal, exquisitely normal.
Let there never be anything wrong.
Let the rain come in torrents.
Let it wash away fear.
Let your house built on a rock stand.

Let the world smell like fallen rain,
like a child’s head, like a grandchild’s head,
like a great grandchild’s head,
as you lift him up on this bright spring day,
this day when you opened your eyes again
not to death but to life.

Sarah DeCorla-Souza

A moonlit night
Today is a Day I’m Searching for Words