My son is my best bud.
He knows the song my heart plays.
Knows my voice,
my stregth in emotions.
I'm his protection.
His warm dry towel.
He's my inspiration.
My colors for a canvas.
He belongs to the universe,
but I hold him tight.
I keep a close eye on him,
for he is my teacher.
He is showing me things I have forgotten to enjoy while I'm here.
Smell, see, feel, taste, hear.
I'm the energy lingering in silence after a perfect harmony before the first applause.
He's a ringing, singing
spitting image of God.
My baby! My baby!
That's My son!
My heart is forever changed!
Quirky smiles spread across my checks. My heart soars. Inside, I'm singing the most boyant song of the wind carrying the sunshine's warmth through the trees in a valley, dancing off the stones of the mountains.
Your voice ( little babbles and clicks and howels and screaches) is like the feeling of the mist from a long awaited rain.
Your eyes hit me like a smack to a baseball, (that hits right between in and out field
and bounces with just the right velocity
to give the hitter time to graciously slide
and pop-up on second.)
Beauty at its finest.
Your grip is like new leather.
You hold on for security.
For example in a new store, around new people, you hold my hand.
Your legs dangle like a Leopard on a tree.
When you're happy you kick!
When you're shy you burry your face in my chest. I melt. Mushy, oh I lavish this amazing company of yours.
All together you are my favorite setting (as well as my dad's): a wonderful summer lightning storm. A glorious refreshing warm rain, a powerful giddy boom, after vicious, victorious slashes of light.
Lawn chairs at the edge of the garage. Bare feet. Just pure adrenaline and sheer excitement.
Every moment with you, in my arms,
Here. On this warm bed. In this safe house. In this familiar city. In this free country. On this beautiful planet. Sourounded by stars.
Is an opportunity to make sure that I am Callie your Exclusive and personal love-enhancing lifetime friend.
I'm still in shock.
You're beyond words.