he takes it well
this moment of inevitable separation
this stutter-step stalling into boy hood
he takes off feet first
moving faster than the ground beneath him
his steps buckle
but hold
he is a boy who knows what he wants
even if he doesn't know what that means yet
doesn't know how rare that is
to meet change with such open armed acceptance
and this is the point
where the path diverges
where i will know his story only second hand
Where he becomes less of me
And more of himself
Less of what I thought I saw
In the grainy light of ultrasound
Less the imprint of fingertips
On windowpanes or clay
More a name grown into itself
The prickly rose
Grown past my pruning
Reaching past my locked doors
To touch sky and stars and sun
He will travel the night
Without me
See things and weave stories
I had only imagined in dreams
He will live for himself
And never for me
I will reflect the colors of sunset and summer thunder
And touch sun and stars and sky
Guardian to his memories
In picture books and ripped green thermal blankies
And he will remember love as his beginning
His ending
And bridge in between
Absolutely lovely. You have summed up so many of my own personal parenting feelings. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteKelli