My Four Children
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I wrote a play once for my 4 children
I gave them special names to match their characters
Sarallius, Debradella, Warrickolius, and Michelangelo
They were to be as Norsk Gods but more than Mythical Beings
Like Shakespearian characters in our true tale of life
Before many had even heard of Thor, son of Odin
Larger than life, my dear wife bore them to us both
and I loved them with the purest father’s heart
Did not possess or control them, even when my soul it ached
I tried to give them freedom, which is the foundation of all joy
Did not burden them with the sins of our fathers
Although I would have fought to the death against any
Who would disrespect or threaten them, diminish them in any way
You keep this hidden: the teeth of the protector, the wolf-parent
Like an Arkhala, Bagheera or Baloo – you want only the best for them
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I never finished that tale and soon they began to write their own
and before too long from the nest they all had flown
It always happens quicker than you want, your greatest, nagging fear
I tried so valiantly, gallantly to say the things that they should hear
But somehow you never do it all, believing there will be time a’plenty
To say it later when that perfect moment comes that never does
And you’re always a little sad as you wrestle with what’s good and bad
I long for my children to be what I’m not, to have what I didn’t
And to be happy with nowt’, wrapped in that purest consolation ~
Nothing can take away the prayers a loving mother or a father prays
Those things, those matters, those tortured cries and tears stay on
Written in the stone, carved in heavens clouds where they belong
And angels bear them to their maker and sing their own special song
It is a unique joy to know you have birthed children to this world
And for each the Loving Father has a unique ensign, bright, bold and unfurled
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writtenbyedenbray10.04.2018