For Brady, With Love, Granny

As Autism Acceptance Month comes to a close on April 30th, I would like to share a poem I recently wrote for my grandson, Brady. The poem will soon appear in The Lyric and in my next book as well.

April is Autism Acceptance Month, designated to promote understanding, inclusion, and celebration of autistic individuals, while shifting focus from mere awareness to active acceptance. Celebrated throughout April, with World Autism Acceptance Day on April 2nd, it aims to reduce stigma, highlight unique strengths, and encourage supportive environments.

The poem's title comes from John Greenleaf Whittier's poem "The Barefoot Boy."

Brady studying the fish in his aquarium

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blessings on Thee, Little Man

Autism is a gift wrapped in a mystery.

                — Keri Bowers

 

A meadow stirs in small reverences ―

a late moth lifts into the pastel sky

a pollen beetle climbs a dandelion

butterflies and bees wait motionless

for the sun to warm their wings so they can feed

on nectar pooling in a thousand clovers.

As animated choristers stake claims

of territoriality, the bold

metallic trill of a red-winged blackbird fills

the air with an exultant song of praise.

 

Brady charts the field’s perimeter

where oak-tree shadows fold into the grass.

He kneels to touch the texture of a stone,

reading the secret in its ancient grain.

He senses keenly every gust of sound ―

a power line’s shrill whine, a village bell,

the thrum and rumble of a distant train.

But now he registers the heat-bug’s buzz

the hopper ticking on a thistle stalk

the rustle of a wren’s wing in the brush.

 

And when the morning wind shifts, Brady turns

to hear the sacred music of the spheres.

Although he moves along unfurling hours

on different pathways parallel to mine,

through brilliant patterns hidden from my eyes,

I’m thankful for the mystery of his ways

and for the gentle lesson of his wonder;

how his silence gathers up and holds ―

for all of us to see ― the beauty in

the blessed light of God’s imperfect world.

 

(by Catherine Chandler 2026) 

  

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

― Henry David Thoreau, from Walden