Sons

I bore a tiny son,

An extension of me.

No longer was I one.

How could this miracle be?

The rush of his mouth upon my breast,

The warm little hand nestled

Against my skin, my heart,

He sleeps, my fears depart.

He grew from a tiny cell.

I am in awe.

Deep within me all is well

Doubts of my purpose gone.

But now he is a man.

Out in the world in his own land.

Does he need me still?

Oh no, for he has his own will.

But our oneness is eternal.

Our love always abounds.

We will always be connected

In life or death it will be found.