While Janie and I were talking recently about relationships and companionship and marriage and the magic and triumph of hope thereof… I found myself telling her about The Watering Can.
The Watering Can is perhaps my metaphoric vision of the “to have and to hold” piece of life and love and relationships. But my “to have and to hold” belongs to the mother. She holds The Watering Can. She is the one whose hands and fingers and heart have held, gripped and embraced The Watering Can… until another human being gently allows her to release her hold.
I found myself writing the story of The Watering Can for my Janie, my beautiful daughter… and I’d like to share it with other mothers and other children. I hope you will see what I mean.
The Watering Can
There’s a mystical legend as old as the sky,
A soft and quite magical lullaby.
It begins anew with each newborn babe,
A treasured gift with enchanting ways.
It’s a story known from land to land…
This magical legend of The Watering Can.
The Watering Can appears so beautifully new,
Magnificently created, uniquely for you.
Richly adorned or forged from tin,
But the sacred part is what’s within…
For The Watering Can’s magic is invisible, you see,
But for the hands and the heart of one who will be
Your song, your music, your sea, your ship…
Your sun, your rainbow, your dance, your skip.
The Watering Can’s magic nourishes and flows,
It sprinkles and splashes and watches you grow.
It’s tipped and poured and filled in great drought,
Dipped in great rivers the world throughout.
Its handle is held, carried, embraced
As a lifetime of moments take beautiful shape…
Then comes a moment when the grasp is replaced
By another’s heart, another’s embrace.
The Watering Can’s presence will seem to be known
By a new pair of hands… a gentle new home.
But remember this lesson, for it’s truer than true,
The Watering Can’s magic is resolute…
The new hands and the heart of the lullaby’s song
Will understand what must be done…
The sprinkles, the splashes, the pours and tips,
Flowing, and nourishing your awaiting lips…
The dipping in rivers in times of great drought,
The Watering Can’s magic never in doubt.
Then you’ll laugh and you’ll sing,
You’ll dance and you’ll fly,
Your ship will set sail
And your lullaby
Will flourish and discover notes not yet sung,
For The Watering Can’s new magic has just begun.
(But always remember as the hours and days
Blend quite together in enchanting ways…
The grasp of the first hand who held with her soul,
Leaves a forever imprint to have and to hold.)
I love you, my beautiful, beautiful Janie… forever and ever and then some more. Always look for someone who understands the great importance of The Watering Can. Always…
Mom
