Cries of a Child

a poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen, Denmark

In the bosom of a mother
a child is cradled
How much more joy is there
with the father
touching the soft skin
and fingers of this child,
this child, his own flesh and blood?

In the bosom of a mother
in the playful touch of a father
how much more can we speak
of security for this child?

But the child cries
and still cries until
the reasons for crying are found out
until the needs of this child
are satisfied.

We all air out our cries
of a little child
for where else is security
except in God?

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