Flesh of my flesh, a soul takes flight,
In Baptism' font, made pure and bright.
An icon's gleam, a whispered prayer,
God's image etched, beyond compare.
Through tiny hands, the cross I trace,
A sacred trust, in time and space.
To guard this light, this holy spark,
Against the world, the cold, the dark.
Each scraped knee, a tear that falls,
Echoes Eden's broken walls.
But grace abounds, a healing stream,
Redeeming love, a waking dream.
I see the #Christ in your young eyes,
A promise whispered from the skies.
To raise you true, in faith and deed,
A living #Icon, for all to read.
#OrthodoxDad #Fatherhood