Dana Sanderson What Next Will Come

What Next Will Come Dana Sanderson

The butterfly is fluttering, then flips and kicks and bumps. She finally arrives, such joy, but then what next will come? The baby’s home, and sands fall through the hourglass of life. She sits, she crawls, she walks, she runs, she dances, oh, she thrives! I blink my eyes and years have passed, my child no longer rests In my lap to read or sit with me; she’s off to her next quest. I’ve watched her living every day, but didn’t comprehend How sweet the moments were, my eyes were closed, my time was spent On things that had no meaning, cleaning house and making beds. My child, my life, my love, my heart craved words that went unsaid. I blink again and see a mom and daddy on the beach Hold their baby by the hand, my baby out of reach. I want to shout to them, “Don’t blink, you’ll never understand How precious this sweet day is, friend, I know that now first hand.” I often ask the question that in my impatience grows What next will life be bringing me? Impatience is my foe.