Even at a tender young age,
she blossoms beautifully.
With every renewing day
her hands rise like
the morning flames-
and she sings
for all who live.
Her lips are woven
from whispering dewdrops,
light on her face
giving awe and faith.
At window's eve
she waits to welcome
the life of dawn's beginning-
how she grins wildly
at the play of nature.
When day departs
obedience is her eye
as she becomes my bud,
to hold dearly in safety.
She tells me of her travels,
a hand for the poor,
a heart for the unkind
because her tears
will heal the broken
and those who have
fallen away from God.
- - - - - - - -
If I am married in the future and have a daughter, I hope she will be named Gianna after Saint Gianna who was a devoted mother and wife, filled with everlasting love....she gave up her life so that her child might live and is the patron saint of life and families..
