Verse 1
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With folded arms
and bowed head
my child,
this little angel
talks with Heavenly Father
in an almost perfect manner.
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Verse 2
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Yet somehow I wonder
where such reverence comes
when I see this same angel
in anger or wild at play?
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Verse 3
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Where do we cross the line
to communicate with Father
and then become the terror
of the street and home?
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Verse 4
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Their teachers in school
wonder where the energy
is found within
such a small body
to do all that they can do
within the one minute
they turn their backs?
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Verse 5
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Then at Church on the Sabbath
one would wonder whose
going to claim these
small angels
who with the spirit
of joy, happiness
and seem at times
to be absolutely wild.
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Verse 6
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Is there a way to combine
the two of them
into a one somewhere
in between this angel
who talks with Father
and this whatever
the rest of the time?
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Verse 7
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So we patiently try again
to never forget whose
children they really are;
and thus need to be loved,
cherished, held, corrected,
but most of all reminded
to each of us -
that they are Father's
and He has entrusted
their care to us.
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Verse 8
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Thus with folded arms
and a bowed head
in humble prayer
each and every night;
I ask my Heavenly Father
to have the reverence
of a child.
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