3 wishes

oh, my son, your heart:
unripe and tender and wide open
like a field of grain standing tall.
we run together there
and if you should trip,
you curl up and look up
and wait for me to cry with you.
and i come, but
with lots and lots of praise for your courage.
for you are so very soft,
and my footprints change you.
and you must start to learn a little now, dear big boy,
about the difficulties of this road you are choosing in hope.
so i wish you hard times of waiting,
to establish your roots and to prove your faith...
ripe and bowing abundant.













oh, my son, your eyes:
huge, dark puddles i fall into daily.
your lips. tiny rosebud things -- so cliche, but so be it!
your mind. the things you say!
the way you turn every step into dance,
whether or not anyone sees.
you nourish yourself in my embrace:
sweet and strong when i am yours;
bitter and strong when i don't bend.
and i know i'm not the only woman who will love you,
for you are wise and cunning and beautiful.
and so, my son, my dear middle boy,
i wish you failure.
just enough to secure your reliance
upon the hand that formed you...
wise and beautiful.













oh, my son, your feet:
little and smooth
and twitching with anticipation!
you jump and are fearless,
you fall and you bleed, but pain can't keep up.
you run to greet new faces
like the earth runs to each sunrise.
your cries, short and desperate, are comforted so quickly.
your days, bright and brimming, are lived with abandon.
to be the one who tickles your tummy,
who fills up your cup so you can dribble love --
this is my honour and my joy!
you're feisty and you barely hear "no".
and so, baby boy dear, i wish you pain.
to temper your steps and to callous your feet...
quick and steady.

















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