Thank you for every wispy, barely-there hair on her fragile skull
Thank you for her questing hands,
ever stronger with longer and longer reach,
that try to touch the world and bring it to her.
Thank you for her sturdy legs and feet
now planted to get a taller perspective on the world.
Thank you for her bright eyes, rosebud lips,
her eagerness to grasp and feel and taste
and know the world that daily expands around her.
Thank you for her skin,
especially those spots on her neck and belly
that distil that special blend of softness
and johnsons-baby-washedness that is the essence of babydom.
Thank you for the very selfness of her self,
the parts of us now parts of her,
the fizz in her eye,
the ready smile,
the chuckle deep in her throat when she’s really amused,
often by something small.
Thank you for all that she is and will become.
Thank you for my child.
My daughter wasn’t very old when I wrote this and is no longer a baby, but the sentiments are still the same. :)
Wow, Sharon! What a powerful poem — it reminds me of when my kids were babes. Very beautifully written, too–the sounds, the rhythms, the images. Thank you!
Enjoyable; from the ‘home’ page I was thinking…this must be her child. And you painted a picture which because real. :)