For nine months I carried you.
Love's wonder, so true,
a bundle of smallness,
like a dove, he flew.
*
Those days were my first,
a hope's radiant ray,
a tiny soul within me,
yearning love every day.
The feeling of life,
growing inside of me with grace,
elated my heart,
yet birth's anxious embrace.
*
A normal feat it seemed,
a memory, now aged,
my first son,
as time's book was paged.
First sons are meant to be
brave hearts in the fray.
He still battles with life,
seeing it as a challenge each day.
*
Also published on Medium.com
About the Creator
Denise Larkin
A writer with a BA in Arts & Humanities (specialism Creative Writing), studying for an MA in Creative Writing, writes poetry and fictional short stories. The author of Time to Run, The Island of Love, Darkness, and The Non-Human.
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
🧡
Awww, this was so sweet and touching! Such q wonderful poem!
I am touched by the love and support that your son has from you. It is clear that he is a very lucky young man.