Flourish

Aren’t you glad we’ve

A flourishing God

Who loves a good ink dipped pen?

Who admires the filigree

Of developing leaves

And every painted sunset.

Aren’t you glad

He gave peacocks a chance

Who loves a good marble floor?

Who admires the scenery

Of a Japanese café

And every opened door.

Aren’t you glad you’ve

A flourishing Dad

Who loves a good late night chat?

Who admires the tenacity

Of your smile

And every bright thought you ever had.