Reflections

Watching reflections of the light

On the ceiling as they twirl

Sylvester, Bugs and Tweety

On a slow and endless whirl

Beneath the light, three babies lay

In cribs adorned the same

Each child without a clue

As to so much as their name

It's quiet now as moments ago

The last one has been fed

Some patting on the back and humming

Then each one put to bed

As I check up one last time

To see how they are sleeping

I look in to see eyes not closed

But over covers they are peeping

Looking back up at me

They've been awake for all the while

And as if they know they fooled me

They give me that big smile

Today has been a good day

The kind, years from now, I'll miss

But Lord knows I'd by lying

Saying each day was like this

Often they are teachers

Whose lessons can be tough

And make us wonder if what we are

Will ever be enough

They help us find new kinds of love

They help us find new fears

They teach us how our vision's blurred

By someone else's tears

Fed, clean, warm in your arms

Yet, no matter what you try

A binky here, there, there, there

But all they do is cry

Taking turns holding each

Eyeing your next choice

It's easy to see which one it'll be

As you hear the loudest voice

Eventually the tears do dry

And the cries begin to fade

Discomfort now arises

In the cradle your arms made

You lay each one in their crib

And then, ironically

You sit back down exhausted

As a clock somewhere strikes "three"

Sitting back in that big rocker

But now three babies lighter

The light above still goes round

As the night seems somewhat brighter

Watching reflections of the light

On the ceiling as they twirl

Sylvester, Bugs and Tweety

On a slow and endless whirl…