Michael sees with a tiger’s ferocity.
His life is electric joy.
A wind down the hall,
a bird’s migration around the corner.
Every chair a precipice.
Tables are mountains
where he leaps, crouches,
watches with the stare of a king.
He is the child of a precocious dream,
where tigers run.
Who can ignore this daring little tiger?
No tree is tall enough,
machismo so huge.
Eyes of lightning,
Michael, ruler of his kingdom.
Walking with hands behind him.
You open the wilderness in Papa’s soul.
He is forever changed
watching your grace unfold.
hurricane inside his heart.
Your eyes windows to the world.