
Children are the Blessed Ones
A newborn's eyes look up in gratitude to Without hurry the father frees the two of joined flesh. Two years later this little one's all over, everywhere at once. Ten years now and you're two amongst hundreds in an Eighteen years and the challenges keep coming. Now twenty-six and partnered up, they've got three kids
Oh, business is fine, but play's more better - come, lets go! Yes, Children Are The Blessed Ones, Remember that the joy, exuberance, and blessings of 1994 by Joseph LaValley
the face relieved, yet so full of joy.
It takes succor at the breast as the
cord slows and finally stills its pulse.
Now the tender kiss and caress as the new realm connections are
fulfilled through means both subtle (psychic) and obvious (physical).
Running and laughing gleefully about, as parents give chase,
all throughout.
audience. Before you, on stage performs your confident
and radiantly alive young one.
The voice, its resonance and power, run through to your very soul.
You sit there, transfixed with love and awe.
Life's flow takes its unexpected turns.
Some of them hard, some even painful.
Fortunately, the maturing child's shine readily rebounds.
This is because you have taught yours to be thankful
for all of their life's experiences.
An ever rising phoenix.
to call to sup. Two big and one lit-o, yes its grandma n grandpa
and a spry young fellow.
Lets run together. Down the hill, past meadow and brook,
to our stately home at the overlook.
but who are the children?
childhood are forever yours, for no matter what your age,
You are always a child of God.
Written on Christmas eve. for a friend who was
about to become a father for the first time.
This woman of love, this one so warm.
Oh this woman, she is home. Her winds: the many directions in life. This whole woman is soon bringing a child into our world.
The gift of love, this Being.
This home of love, strength and sensitivity.
She is the earth holding the winds,
the seas and the fires of life.
Her seas: the wholeness of the spirit.
Her fire: the zest and enthusiasm for life.
Dare I even imagine the magnificence,
the beauty of this child coming from such a one as her.
The gift she'll give, this Being.
The gift these Beings bring to me, to us, to us all.
Joe LaValley 1983 This poem was written out of the inspiration I felt as
I considered the gift of childbirth and motherhood
that my relationship at the time had been and was for her daughter.
I've always been romantically inclined,
I just want to show you I'm for real, We can take it slow or even let it go.
Maybe this will show you, I'd really like to get to know you. Thought about you today,
I'll make no demands - I'm not that kind.
I'm not playing Let's Make a Deal.
I just want you to know, that's just me to let my feelings show.
Don't be scared away, I'm not like this every day.
and wanted to talk with you in a different way.
Joe LaValley 1980 This poem was inspired out of my desiring to make the
aquaintance of a woman on a bus I rode to work each day.
Every day I start anew, To open up my heart some more, I find this world in golden green, People here who really care,
I look out beyond this wall today, Inside or out, I am the same,
discovering all the things to do
and step on through this open door.
its awesome beauty to be seen.
endless love to give and share.
and somehow know its all ok.
I'm playing the living loving game.
Joe LaValley approx. 1983
This poem was written for my father who was a lifer in prison.
Eventually he left his body there. A card I bought for him helped inspire the poem. It showed a brightly colored, beautiful landscape outside
the window of an otherwise bleak castle tower room & window. My hope was that this poem and card would warm his heart with love. I don't recall any response,
if he had one
My physicalness dissolved, Always the same, and ever changing,
No words can convey to my thought's dismay, With feathered wings I soar and create, Joe LaValley 1981
I am one with all.
as the chick's an eagle, and a fledgling.
this wondrous oneness I feel today.
and come to the next door, none to late.
This poem was inspired by the most beautiful
picture of a soaring eagle I'd ever seen.