Season of the Child

i was there, at your birth

holding breath to realize

your being, in ways no

longer secret to the world.

i crooned a cradle song

between the days of then

and now. I readied steady

hands to hold you tight; barely

blinked a thousand times and

then – you walked alone into

the world – while tears, both

sad and salty, coursed a trail

long followed down my face