FOR MY SON

I’ve been to London, and Paris and Rome

Washington, New York, and Los Angeles

Champagne, paté, and caviar

And nothing compares

To picking up your toddler at preschool

Running into your arms chanting “mommy, mommy, mommy”

As if the sun and moon have risen together

No memory is dearer 
Nor warms the heart more  

Or the first time he sits up on his own
And promptly falls over

And erupts in joyous peels of laughter

Or the day he finds his toes for the first time

Like a hunter walking up to the edge of a cliff 

or lightly touches your eyelids

With the wonder of an explorer walking through the amazon for the first time

And for those first few years

A mother can hold in her arms

Chubby arms and legs, satin skin, and the most glorious fragrance

Everything that is wonder and joy and newness of spirit

- L. Rosell Oct 2016