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Through a boy, our son, his own person
His lessons we learn from him & circle like Eagles in protection of his soul
Reach to me
Across the valant seas and windchimes of New Orleans
Reach to me
Leave the scar faded but in heart left from our absent fathers
Reach to me
His head so beautiful his voice so curious, expecting your warmth and embrace
A father tall with three proud kings
I came the last fallen maiden, the youngest to bear you one more son
With my maturity of heart it is me you whisper to
That loving the children comes easy
Yet you furrow your brow in despair at the gregarious task of appeasing me
Do not worry my children you say know love
Why am I the cleaner of home and holder of your pain when you wrap your arms around me your heart beats on another plain
I'll hoover away tears, pack fears into crockery. I'll sing to the coming sunshine in his arms gods wrapping of my being
Until my love as our prince does
You reach to me.
