I have been trying to preserve, on film camera & in memory, those really divine parts of Bodhi as a baby which I don't want to ever forget. His skin, blessed like ghee, the hair on his skin which you can only see in the light from certain angles. Those dimpled hands, feet, elbows & cheeks. His golden silk like hair. The warmth of his body on mine, his gentle, held cuddles & that all around softness a baby brings to the home, Love. He has a comforter, a kangaroo skin. It was Dazla's meditation seat for many years. When Bodhi moved into the meditation room, I grabbed it one night in desperation for him to settle & go back to sleep. It worked & he has carried it ever since.
Bless
this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of Heaven for our
Earth.
He loves the light of
the sun, he loves the sight of his
mother's and father's
face.
He has not learnt to
despise the dust, nor to
hanker after gold.
Clasp him to your
heart and bless him, he has come into this land of 100 crossroads, I do not
know how he chose you from the crowd, how he came to your door and grasped
your hand to ask the way.
He will follow you
laughing and talking, not a doubt in his heart.
Keep his trust, lead
him straight and bless him. Lay your hands on his head and pray that though the
waves underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may come and fill
his sails and waft him to the haven of peace.
Forget him not in your
hurry, let him come to your heart and bless him.
Rabindranath Tagore