Tucked In

I love it when you t-o-u-c-k me in.

They were simple words, scrawled in your childish hand.
Paper tattered, yet the meaning I could still understand.

Reluctantly, you’d climb the stairs and get ready for bed.
“Brush your teeth, wash your face,” were words that I said.

You dawdled, but when ready down the stairs you’d call.
“Please come tuck me in,” were your words, I recall.

Then I’d smile, hold you close and we’d share your day.
Have a story and with a hug your night fears I’d allay.

We’d end our time together with your youthful prayer,
Giving thanks to the Father, for His love and His care.

I’d pause at your door and quietly turn off the light.
But I couldn’t help thinking of another ‘Good-night.’

When I breathe my last breath, as do all Human kin.
My Father will reach down and with love, tuck me in.

J.E. Dyrholm ~ Claresholm