A tiny face stares back from behind the glass.
He smiles, recognizing me.
Brown eyes I had almost forgotten,
Small and fragile yet strong and bold,
My godson.
His lispy voice raises as he calls for me,
Angel’s music to my ears.
Nine years of innocence,
The mischievous Artful Dodger,
My godson.
Little fingers, so soft and cold, reach to me.
My palm swallows his weak hand whole.
A gentle kiss on his cheek.
He closes his eyes to sleep.
My godson.
Lifting my eyes upward, silent prayers sent to Heaven.
Let him suffer no more.
Give to me his pain.
Give to him a happy, loving life,
My godson.