Each beginning is important
A gesture or a seed
An omen, if you will,
A time capsule
To which we come again
When years have passed
And having seen its contents
Say, “Of course!”
Today I sit
In slanting light
And cast my mind to things
That happened in this very place
A baker’s dozen years ago.
Your sunny birth –
Frail and then athletic –
With just a few close friends
To join us at the water’s edge
Unworried about skipping church
Lying instead and listening
To football on the radio
While someone fetched us
Chinese food.
I see these things again today
And say, “Of course,
My English-weather son,
This is who you’ve always been
Since your exulting mother
Cried with joy and
Placed you on her chest.
Now my cheeks, too, are streaked
The way they were that day
Because your beginning was important
And I love who you’ve become.
Penguin Poems 