Tuesday, August 13, 2013

My son is to me

My son is to me
that moment right before you blow out your birthday candles
the perfect 55 degree camping weather
the feeling you get when you turn in a test first, and you know all the answers are correct.

He is
that song that brings you back to highschool nights with friends
a tight hug when you need it most
that infectious laughter that brings tears
the good kind.

Full of unlimited potential
he can be anything,
love anyone -
be loved and give love and be love.
He is a child,
like any child,
but he's mine and so he is a miracle,
a god-send
a supernova rainbow endless ocean of beauty.

Even when I'm so tired and frustrated that I just look at him and cry
or sigh and hold my head between my hands and wonder
am I cut out for this, did we make a huge mistake -

I look into grey-blue eyes, touch the softest skin,
remember the feel of him pushing against my body from the inside,
the first time I heard him cry out loud and clear,
and I know
even if I never write a real book,
even if I never become “successful” as the world defines it,
even if I die tomorrow,
I have everything.