a blessed mate, grows strong & straight..

The blessing of the vast blue open sky, 
and blessings of the bower bird that seeks
the small blue objects here on earth that try
reflecting all the openness that weeps

down softly as a puzzling parable
reflected in the riddles it perceives
and hints at, (for not all land's arable,
and might need some manure and some leaves),

to grow a living bluebell which that bird
might prize and take, to try to woo a mate.
Please God, bless us with eyes that see "absurd",
well, things that will help woo to your love straight.

And bless this man, with childlikeness that won't
return to childish thinking as a tack
to try to get "his way",  but rather groan
to you without words to express what lacks -

or seems to, or where your  wisdom's desired.
Your blessings seem to be each every thing;
please bless your man with rest, and keep him fired
by nothing short of your love, and being!