The Gift of God
Oct 2001

At first cry and the view of light
Breathing into the air, as lungs open wide
From an early wonder of age, so curiously about
All ears open wide to the interesting sounds

And a first touch of a dry paintbrush
He takes his heart onto the canvas
With so much blue in those eyes that gloom
But with so much love and early desire
This skill evolves so restless and never tires
When no trace in family history could be found
Here lives a vivid boy who astounds
The talent, the pain, the inspiration

But for all the other children of the world
There is an existing of inner vibes attracted
To the various conceptions, goals, interests
Whether it be in instruction, public safety, or in advising
Whether it be as a musician, a painter, or an artist
It comes easy, it comes free, was it meant to be?

They say it could be a reflection of the past
The past of the past before that aspire for human life
In the realm where there is no such thing as time
Before the first walk upon the sky
And from form to form it develops again

Is it the ancestry, is it the father
Which directs their life as a child?
Baby likes to hear whispers in their ears
Tell them words of love so tender and sweet

© 2002 Johan Palacio