I loved you last
barely a whisper against my cheek
before you were rushed
and wired behind glass
to fight for every breath
heartbeat, flutter of your eyes
you held me in awe
a protector of the weak
friending the broken boy that lost
the girl curled into herself
the mother that almost forgot to love
I hold my breath
as your heart races wide open
your hands, once too small
to wrap around my thumb
rise above, beyond
my dreams for you
as you suspend
the natural pull of gravity
I am in awe
and think of Kipling’s If –
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Writing 