Son

Choosing sand over stardust
Stomping along the weedy shore
Instead of swimming across
Enchanted waters
My hands steady and strong
Even as my spirit shudders
Waivers and quakes
There is no perfection
His liquid stare puzzles
No one is perfect
Momma
But you are not no one
I choose to be stay solid
When my soul begs to be free
To float on the wind
Finding magic at every turn
Not for him
But because of him
Baby turned boy turning
All too quickly
To Man
The muse to my instincts
A child too much like
His mother
With the logic, playfulness
And serene smile
Of his father
He won’t be perfect
Either
But he’ll be
Strong
And Steady
Beautiful in his complexity
Because of us
And this
Our imperfect
World

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