The baby's guardian is Saint Ephraim,
whose arms do glow with Holy Spirit, strong.
His name he's given, who belongs to Him.
Despite the odds, where overcoming them
are low, odds for a normal life are long,
the baby's guardian is Saint Ephraim,
and odds have raised up high because of Him,
where things are righted which had started wrong.
His name he's given, who belongs to Him.
The baby wakes at night and coos a hymn,
while staring into space and laughing strong.
The baby's guardian is Saint Ephraim.
Who else might baby gurgle at but Him,
and angels all around him with their song?
His name he's given, who belongs to Him.
His needed treatments, those refused to him,
he's gotten, will get more before too long.
The baby's guardian is Saint Ephraim.
His name he's given, who belongs to Him.
(C)2008, Christos Rigakos
Circle
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Wondering what UCLA alumni poets are up to? Check out Circle Poetry
Journal, a published-by-referral-only journal, coming out Fall 2013. First
Cycle includ...
11 years ago
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