I want to point because he does not
point at the God that made him and shout mean things at it,
the way I do
Can I ask one question because my son does not ask me questions
Why?
After seven years you start realizing that nothing is going to change quickly
or the way you want them to
You have to let him be who he is and not what you want him to
Autism does not take away your dreams
Sometimes you think it does
But they're altered
Imperfect, yet sweet
The way he puts his whole face
Into his smile.
When I hear him stir at 4AM
Both of us now unable to fall back asleep
He and I
We are more alike than I care to admit
I'm able to get up quietly
To turn on the laptop and surf to sleep
or pull something potent out of the cabinet to get me there
He has to take all the covers off his bed
to sing himself to back to sleep
or jump up and down to tire himself to slumber
This one needs work, more than the others.
In other news, you can find the Columbus Arts Festival Poetry Corner schedule here.
I'm leading it off, again.
2 comments:
This is so wonderful. It swings along like a lullaby, a gentle story of truth. Beautiful.
Thank you so much. It's going to be cut into two poems when I get around to it.
Unfortunately I can't count the edits as poems for today and tomorrow :)
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