you open my eyes to magic
already- I am transformed.
you are my perfect creation
the thrill of my soul
most intimate communion
and, yet, a perfect stranger.
I love you
what I can even imagine
what will it be...to look into your eyes
after all this time
the most beautiful of all blessings
I wrote this for Asher before he was born. Before I met him face to face...before I smelt him and held him and kissed the slope of his nose. I came across this writing as I was trying to update the journals that I keep for the children.
I've been thinking a lot about this boy. This boy with slender limbs and tiny frame that is seemingly too small for his spirit...that builds tight muscles around the energy that constantly tries to fly away and reach out, in order to keep it contained. I am thinking about how he moves about recklessly and with wild abandon...sometimes stumbling around awkwardly while other times appearing to have the agility of a cat. I am thinking about this boy...about how his love of being rescued drives his play...about his hesitation in trusting in the moments that his heart wants to be brave. I think about his eyes and the way they reflect the constant noise in his mind...how when there is a moment of stillness...his eyes focus and peace rains through. I am thinking of the frequency of his being...the way he wakes me up without having to say a word...just walking in the room. I am thinking of what I knew of his soul during pregnancy...and how I talked with him and what I wished for him. I am thinking of how I became a college graduate, a new student, a woman with child, a wife, and a mother all within the same year. I am thinking of how much that all was for me. I am thinking of the times where there was stillness and security...and the times where my world felt like it was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. I am thinking of how unavailable I must have been to him in his early years...of drowning every once in a while in that sea and feeling like I was bringing him down with me. I am thinking of the complexity of it all and how I resisted my reality and the social connotations of being a wife and mother. I am thinking of how when I just released myself from that hold and looked at him...it all became very simple. I am thinking of the memories that stay with me of his infancy and toddler hood...of how he would get an entire room clapping just by doing it himself...how he would kiss with a wide open mouth and how he wants to press his head tightly up against yours when he hugs. I am thinking of how he likes to touch my neck while he sleeps...wrapping his little hand as far around as possible...like he is afraid he might fly away if he isn't grounded in something.
My mind won't stop...but my typing will. I'll keep on thinking...wondering if I am enough...wishing I could be more for this magnificent mystery.