I see my children,
The sun in their hair, the wind in their clothes,
The sky in their eyes.
Freedom is theirs,
Fleeting, but true.
Emotions so pure,
Joy, rage, curiosity,
There and then gone,
A flash in time.
Innocence on the brink of knowledge,
My oldest always questioning,
Trying to understand the world around him.
All the while his brother struggles,
Just to keep up.
They grow so quickly,
New words, spelling, remembered trivia, writing.
But none of that matters, watching them spin,
Arms flung open,
Spirits like the wind.
Like how you write about your love for your children. You idealize them and it works. I'd like to see some of the darkness and fear that underpins this: your fears of them getting older, losing them, becoming distant, etc. Perhaps that is the theme of another poem...
I agree with the wonderful words.
"They grow so quickly,
New words, spelling, remembered trivia, writing.
But none of that matters, watching them spin,
Arms flung open,
Spirits like the wind."
Life does move very quickly. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote
Ah... Yes. The igniting mind of young spirits, innocence and wonderment, a treasure to hold in your heart forever. This is the magic that allows a mother to love her children, even when they are grown, and their path carries them into the shadows.
Through the eyes of a mother you poem takes us away. It leaves us in that mother's mind, seeing and thinking as she does. It is beautiful and true. You are a talented weaver of words.
Like how you write about your love for your children. You idealize them and it works. I'd like to see some of the darkness and fear that underpins this: your fears of them getting older, losing them, becoming distant, etc. Perhaps that is the theme of another poem...