These small child’s handprints on my glass backdoor
the sticky applesauce and popsicle on my kitchen floor
I wouldn’t trade for all the mansions in this world.

 
These conversations with my daughter’s
the new territories in this journey
I wouldn’t miss for all the fame this world could offer.

 
These days I count as precious gems
to the road that leads me round the bend
I will simply give my sweetest Hallelujah.