As we do our prayer tonight,

the baby stands up in my arms

quivering with curiosity

as he stares at his elephant blankie.

His little sweet self—

neath those pudgy cheeks and bright eyes—

filled with the radiance of eternity…

How is it that we are not blinded 

by its brightness?

Merciful covering of cuteness!

Of course as I pray and write this poem,

baby works very hard to fill his diaper

and sends a mustard streak up his back.

Oh, the comedy of being children of God

and also, oh, so very human!