“First Born Son - Wynn”

On the morning when thunder was quiet,  
And dew sparked like stars in the sun,  
The whole world took a gentle, wide breath—  
Welcoming Wynn, our firstborn son.

His name rides the wind in bright whispers,  
Strong bastion and beacon of light,  
The hopes of two hearts woven tightly  
In smiles that outshine the night.

His fingers uncurled like small tendrils,  
The promise of laughter to come,  
A tapestry threaded with wonder,  
A melody barely begun.

Wynn splashes the day with new colors—  
Mud puddles, giggles, and shouts.  
He runs down the lane after swallows,  
Learning what growing is about.

His questions unspool like the rivers—  
Where do lightning bugs hide from the rain?  
He tiptoes through forests of blankets,  
A pirate, a wizard, a train.

We measure the years in new footprints,  
In superheroes drawn on the wall,  
In the hush when he drifts into dreaming,  
Eyes wide with the world’s beckoning call.

Firstborn—he teaches us courage,  
How love sets new stars to burn bright.  
Oh Wynn, little spark on our journey—  
You are earth, water, fire, and flight.

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