Dear child

I think about you, often. 

As I scattered seed across the lawn
 to feed the birds at dawn
As I pour cereal into bowl 
To feed your brothers as they yawn. 

As I drink coffee
watching and reflecting
I wonder about what might be watching. 

As I held around me
what cannot be kept, 
I silently wept. 

Not from forethought of loss
Or retrospect of time gone
But of this divine gift

Given before dawn.