He Was Mine

 

 

My son is like an angel’s feather
Floating down softly from the heavens 
To land so gently on my palm 

The sun shines so sweetly 
On each white downy tendril 
As it wavers, hesitating in the breeze

Suddenly the wind picks up
The feather trembles, tumbles from my greedy grasp 
And leaps higher than I can follow
On winds that cannot hold me
Just as my son will one day leave me
My empty hand still reaching 
To soar to heights I've only ever dreamed 

I will not mourn the loss of my constant companion 
I’ll be proud of every leap and twist and twirl he makes without me
Knowing that once upon a dream come true 
He was mine.  


       

By Amanda M. Burns-Saylor  (Mama)  11/6/13
                Written While Watching "Big" Sleep

 

© Amanda Saylor nee Burns. All rights reserved