"Noah"

“Noah”

For Noah David LaTorre, born May 28, 2023

You are sealed, rocked well
on the face of deep founts,
refreshing with the dove who delivers
relief: olive leaves small,
balled together, in gentle claws.
Mine is a poor herald’s song, Noah.

Pray, then, water to keep
and wind to swaddle you,
for you are new upon a renewed earth.

You were born of our covenant
comfort, for the pain of days which were cursed.
Sleep, child of dawn, and wake lightly
upon the waters, the sun.
My peace of blood and belief, how much
more will you comfort us?

When the rains’ lash passed over us, it drowned
and prepared for you the earth still to bloom.
When you land on the mountain peak
breaching the tide which now recedes,
remember the deep, as you are remembered
in the land you inherit.

My son of sons, named for
comfort, I will not see all
you will beckon. To the soil,
may you bear renewal
in your laughter; grace,
born there in your eye.