To Isaac "Under the Maple Trees"

I see you best under the maple trees,

Sometimes swinging or digging in the dirt,

Sometimes gathering sticks to build a fire.

I like you best there.

I watch you from my bedroom window

And see you more closely than eye to eye.

The sun shines on you leaving a halo on your blonde head.

You are a light, an angel.

I see you clearly there,

Darting in and out of the tall trees

And their shadows and their dappled light.

You are not a blur to me.

Your image is precise,

The outline of your tall frame and slender build.

I see how you've grown.

You look taller out there with the trees . . . 

You will always stand taller where you belong . . . 

I hear you best when you are under the maple trees,

An occasional laugh or boyish sound.

I know the leaves crunch beneath your feet.

You look so happy to be out there.

You told me someday you will live on a farm.

I hear you better when you are under the maple trees.

You must have deep thoughts out there.

You are making plans. 

If you need to think more clearly,

If you doubt or need to be reminded,

Go stand under the Maple trees.

You will always stand taller where you belong.

Now go stand there.