April 3, 2020
Los Angeles, California
The last few months have been a tough time for all of us.
I thought I’d try and bring a little light from the past to try and brighten the present and remind myself and others of the joy and glory of BEING.
I wrote this poem some forty-three years ago this month, in April 1977.
My then-wife, Marsha was six-months pregnant with our firstborn. Son or daughter? We knew not which, but we’re counting the days of the arrival of the Seed of Light.
In late July of that year, we were blessed with the birth of a healthy and beautiful son.
Twice blessed, our second son would follow two years later, in April 1979.
The poem was written and the end of the second trimester, when the baby is nearly fully formed.
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