SEPTEMBER, 2000
We put Jackie in his crib.
Angel with brown stars, novas,
small meteors for eyes.
An aurora for a smile,
full of flowers,
a chemistry of rain and perfume.
Why does my heart
tumble into his smile?
If I told you about a perfect storm
would you believe me?
If I showed you a Sistine radiance,
would you doubt how the color
mixes in your blood?
If I blew a poem into the air,
a transparency of words,
would you doubt
that it mingles with the sky?
So Jackie’s smile does this to me.
Witnesses who see him
suck in their breath,
lest they lose their souls in sheer
exquisite feeling!
That is how Jackie enlarges the world.
Throws light into it,
fills it with fragrance,
creates a melody in the heart.
A small angel of a man,
who will leave footprints.
Whose hands will mold happiness into cake,
to share in the party of his life.
Who lies in his crib,
and in wonder looks at me,
seeing me as I wished,
I could have been.
Giving me a novena,
a clean skin,
to receive the ocean of the world,
wave on wave,
and feel,
I have a place in his caring innocence.
That no one tumbles off the edge
of the world.
I have seen it in my grandson.
I have seen it in no one else,
who occupies his place.