I want to gift my children 
with a childhood that feels 
like a sunbaked daydream 

I want them to think back 
and remember

sourdough loaves straight from the oven 
slathered with butter
learning the impossible art of waiting 
while it cooled enough to be enjoyed 

the faint echoes of 
I love you, I love you, I love you 
while holding hands, skipping in creek beds 
collecting freshwater mollusk shells 

the way they could surrender entirely 
into a warm embrace 
like a skydiver 
believing wholeheartedly
in their parachute 

putting hands deep into fresh soil 
filling flimsy pots to the brim 
putting one perfect seed in each 
learning how precious hope is 
how it imbues life with meaning 
when little else in the world 
makes sense 

Most of all
I hope they learn that love
isn’t something earned 
it’s something harvested 
easily and readily 
from the blossoming hearts
of those lucky enough 
to love them