Remember everything I ever taught you

You told me my coloring was perfect the day I was born

and when asked “Who had that baby?”

you answered

Proudly.

But you can’t hold your head up high

and look down at the baby in your arms

at the same time.

 

You understood how infants prefer to look at a mother’s face,

how the sound of a mother’s voice does something no one else can,

and you understood how quickly that would change.

I wonder if you knew then how motherhood would humble you.

And I wonder if you know now that I would give anything 

to revert to a state of infancy

so that hearing your voice and seeing you face would be enough 

Somewhere I know that it still is.