It's a short reflection from Francis today ... and in verse. As children do we appreciate enough the love our parents have for us? Or how much time our parents spend thinking about us wherever we are in the world, or on our journeys?

My Thoughts Expressed in Verse

Reader, several years ago, I wrote many pieces of poetry and verse to express the thoughts that were pressing on my mind. What this knowledge was teaching me, after all my years of learning, gave me so much release from the past that I felt myself part of a universal song. That song escaped from me minimally in the poems I wrote, often without planning.

Playing a Game...

"Oh! Daddy, I want to be
A horse." I said to him.
"My son," He said to me.
"It seems you speak on a whim,
Forgetting who you are,
And who I am, your dad.

Who made you great by far.
My son you are; but made
Of me to make you less
Than infinity demands.
To have you lack the best
Would be to me but underhand.

My son! But sleep if you would,
And you may be in play
At what you will; but understood:
No loss of Sonship or delay.

Yes, gallop on hill and plain.
Do trot so proud and gay
On roads about and lanes.
Just prance and neigh, you may.

My son! I, make you a horse?
So fine and powerful? 'Tis not
Reality, of course.
You play in dreams, mind besot.

Forget not who you are.
For I made you like me,
No less than me but far
Above what eyes do see.

Oh! Play at will awhile.
When sleeping ends, you'll find
That here I am, and smile,
Remembering you, son of mine.
You are my perfect only son.
What you in dreams would seem to be
Can't be real, as you are one
With me, your dad, you see."

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Francis Brown

[Index of Commentaries by Francis Brown]