For my dear goddaughter

For Lena Margaret Wren on this evening, the first hours:

Oh, dear one

may all that is good find you in this world,

just as you have found us tonight.

This hour you unfolded our anxious hands

we spread them in joy

as a bird spreads her wings.

You breathe the smell of mother's skin

hear hushed voices saying

Karibou, long-awaited one

Dear one, fresh from God's hands,

come into this room,

you have this place here among us,

this evening, in silence

and song, in word and substance,

in touch, breeze, warmth of sun

in morning tomorrow,

yes, morning!

and a morning after that one,

and many, many mornings.

Like the bird that comforts your mother's

heart after long winter,

you have come,

and we sing words for you:

goodness, faith, endurance and hope; 

mountain, river, rain and blossom;

sky, tree, wind, and footfall; 

running, dancing, laughter, and hug; 

father, mother, sister, brother, 

auntie, uncle, cousin, friend, 

And joy.  And joy.  And joy!