Tiny Toes Full of Sand

The salty ocean air reminds me how thankful I am to breath, to smell.

As the waves crash, and the seagulls fly, we watch him discover.

Watching him grow is emotionally harder than I anticipated.

But joyful just the same.

Once in my arms, fresh and new.

Now growing tall and brave.

He is funny, wild, carefree.

Mine but not born from me.

The sand makes a mess, but I don’t mind.

The price to pay to hear the ocean waves and watch you evolve.

Watching you grow is more beautiful than I anticipated.

But bittersweet, just the same.

Your young smile would swallow your face.

Your eyes wide and kind.

Both still there.

But the child is gone and another is here.

We are connected and intertwined.

Loved as you were, but not mine.

How exciting to get to watch them grow.

Together our boys will play.

Nothing but the setting sun getting in their way.

Tiny toes full of sand.