by Aunt Stephanie
I have a special child...
that makes me a special parent.
It makes me strong and it makes me weak.
The child that at one time I could protect
by cradling her in my arms,
now walks by my side.
Oh how my arms ache for her,
how my soul and mind in the darkest
deepest parts of the night torments me
with "what ifs" and "if only's."
Yet in my sleep,
my soul glides peaceful and free.
There are days that I fall to my knees
and hang my head to hide the tears
that fall one by one to the floor...
thinking of how that soft wispy hand,
that was once was so small,
and hung on to my finger as if
our spirits were joined together
by an intense waltz to lullaby music,
Now pushes me away.
There are days when I raise
my head high with such joy,
so grateful for every inch
of her skinny, scrawny little body...
Every day we connect
is like the first drink of cool water
falling on a thirsty desert.
The sweet sound of the first ray of quiet
when she lays her head down on her pillow
is like a lull in a tornado...
just enough time to begin
to brace for the next attack.
When I look into her eyes,
my heart aches with such love,
I feel grateful to a world
that has been so cruel...
she is a special child,
my special child.
Because fate has brought us together
I take her hand,
we will slay the mighty dragon.