In your crossing, my treasured Abigail,
You have whirled upon the sail of your own
Sixth year unto Heaven. A father's love
Is bright ocean; inside it, all words pale
Into dimmest of fish, & in my own
Bottomless dreaming, I could not have sung
The mermaid's song I have learned from your face:
A giddy rhapsody, evidence of
Openhanded God. Abigail, among
The things we learn, there is singing & there
Is silence. In you, I have found more grace
Than I could find in song or endless sea.
In you there is a zephyr that you share
With me, so that I, too, make a journey