that he can

That he can sleep well and dream
 

and crawl on all fours

That he can drink, swallow and chew
 

and can open some doors

That he can walk and climb stairs

and can eat finger food

That he has some good days

though they might be few

That he loves to be touched

and can giggle and smile

Because there once was a time

when I feared those were gone

That he can trudge down the street

In the cold and the snow 

In his first pair of boots

Like never before

That he can see, hear and feel

and can sign a few words

That he has a voice

and knows he is heard

That he’s pure to the bone

and so to behold

That he craves to be held

by those whom he loves

That he likes to be free

to do what he does

There’s no one, I bet

who is quite like my son

Calvin, today, after his first-ever walk down the sidewalk in the snow