between the lines
it's impossible for them to know
this tender desperation
insisting, impetuous
be still, my heart!
pounding pounding
each wisp of time
skin to skin, sweet assurance
still here still here
for a while not for an ever
looking at them, curious
sensing the familiar
seeing the new
growth, perceptible
the outside kind
sometimes and always
but the inside kind, too
slow down! a plea
on deaf ear falls
and in this, a discovery of motherhood:
my hope for long life
has become less about adding years to my own
and more about
seeing them
m e n
b e c o m i n g
filled out and full
laughter and love
lessons learned well
watching them
still
sometimes and always
tend, work, empty, fill
for good for great for god
this all this
and, yes, more than this
is shouted
and shrouded
in every hug til then.
