24 January 2014

Younger mother...young son

I loved this little boy once. He had the softest curls and cries.
His whole world was in the backyard and it was as large as the universe
And it was in his hands when they held my face every night while he slept.
He was my shadow in light or absence of light and his own shadow adored him too.
He could make himself curl, twist, burst through the boredom in the air into
Sparkles of raspy laughter and hugs.
Vibrant colors of love emanated outward and through everyone and everything
And “mama, you are a beautiful queen” made my cheeks flush and my heart rush
And my thanks rise to heaven.
Strong hands and mind, strong beyond his years and fears. Strength that worried and
Dazzled and changed me.
Our Spirits are tangled up and our hearts are coexisting and our Master’s plan was
Right all along.
I had to be his young mother…and he, my young son. 

To Tate.