...march slumbers...

March Slumbers

I watch the wind from where you lay across me,

safe, slumberous, and tangled in my arms.

You breathe a constant whisper in and out,

that lulls my racing mind and winds down time.

An icy blast that streaks out toward the trees,

its snowy duststorm breaking from our sill.

I hear the roar and see the tree limbs dance,

and whisper lullabies to keep you still.

But days ago, the window's open breeze,

brought birdsong to our quiet corner chair.

I drifted in its music as you dozed,

my hair caught in your grouchy fist.

Time slows there as you nestle in my arms,

and branches dip and sway in their own time.

A sudden flutter, black, that weaves and climbs,

a flock of birds just as you start to stir.

I watch the wind, then screw my eyes shut tight,

counting seconds I might rest before you wake.

...happy 2nd birthday...

 How can there possibly have been a time before you?

Every bit of you is so vibrant...so vital. So absolutely, positively part of me and of us and of life.

There simply isn't a time in which you weren't here and part of everything.

You, little one, are a force of nature.

A bright burning spark that sets fire to the heavens each morning, and twinkles across the midnight black.

You, my son, are a miracle.

A wish...a dream...a prayer come true.

But more than I could have ever imagined.

So very much more.

From lilting melodies of babbles and giggles, to the crashing discordant chords of your fury when the world doesn't bend to your will, to the soothing lullabies of your slumbers safe and secure in my arms.

You are the very music.

Happy 2nd birthday, Henri.