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


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.

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