The glories of your heaven cannot show
A being quite as lovely to the eye
As one that through the days and months will grow
From babe to child, fro child to mystery.
Inventions filter through your searching hands
Ideas shape and mold your every move
With grace you smile, with brilliance understand
What others took the centuries to prove.
The hours draw us closer to the time
When equals sit beneath a tiring sun
And from the chaos of the world confine
A million problems into only one.
Yet no matter how wise your words will be
In my heart you’ll remain this child to me.