A Poem for Indigo at 8 Years Old

Waiting for him to fall asleep (a nightly struggle) and felt the urge to get these thoughts down. So in lieu of my annual letter, a poem.

How did we get from zero

to eight 

in a blink of my eyes?

From hurricane and raptor cries,

to--suddenly--

first time around the block all alone?

How did we get from chubby hands and wide eyes

to this tangle of gangly limbs curled up in a pile of sheets and stuffed animals, each beloved, named, with a history all its own?

From those first nights in the dark,

warming you by candlelight,

to watching you struggle to fall asleep,

the anxieties of the world upon your shoulders,

and in your dreams,

never far, not this year.

But I promise you this,

sweet worrier/warrior,

I too will never be far

when you need me.

And you will go from 8 to 18

in just another blink of my eyes.

from awkward boy to tall young man,

ever passionate, ever seeking, ever wondering.

Ever my baby boy.