It's strange to notice things I must have just forgotten
back there in childhood dust
all those years ago
like the predilection of holding my arms
straight above my head
wrists limp
while lying on my back in bed
and it just comes back to me
as I look at him
like a miniature format
like a tiny blueprint
like a little rendering
of me
right there on that wooden bed
is this person
this whole person
with blood pushing
through his body
whole
aware
growing fast
like seedlings reaching for sunlight
he is so much like me
that I can hear my heart pound
6 comments:
LOVES.
This is so beautiful!
Love this. I love the awe of catching a little glimpse of childhood through my son.
Love the Solsbury Hill reference, too ;o)
Awesome and so true.
That is beautiful. I'm always stealing little peeks into the window of my own childhood through my son.
oh my, this is lovely
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