Now I lay me down,
to remember long ago,
when the words failed,
when you came into the light
of this world, quiet, at peace,
with barely a coo.
We held you, and a new
reality weighted our arms.
A new real creased
and increased our hearts.
In all my quarter century
I never knew such mystery.
Now I’ve seen the unfolding of you,
as color infused your baby face,
age on age, and grace on grace.
So now, we release,
smile, cry, sing,
of what is yet to be.
And that’s the thing,
to be, that is the question.
To be love, not simply in love.
To move love until it moves you.
To grip love like a blankie remnant.
To hold on as waters rise,
and the sun sets.
To find solace and comfort
and safety in the other.
To love and let love.
Gerald the Writer 
Thanks for your time and thoughts.