This morning you crawled up, curled up in my arms.
Pressed your head against my lips and then you stayed there.
You watched the sunrise over the sound, held your breath then let it out.
In my arms you found the calm and so you stayed there.
Don’t often feel so loved, but five minutes with my son,
the way you came into my arms and how you stayed there.
Sweet to you and sweet to me, how you ministered to me -
with time and cuddling, and how you stayed there.
Suddenly I’m a son it seems, wanting “just 5 more minutes!” in this scene,
then wake and breathe in deep, and then just stay there.
Now you’re my teacher - teaching me to crawl and reach.
In the Father’s arms to take a seat, then burrow deep, and choose - to stay there.