Morning Delivery

(Taking Trey to school one morning. Written 2-2-09)

“You are the brightest
star in my sky.”
You grab your
backpack, glance
at me, almost smile
but roll your eyes instead.

“Be a leader today;
reach beyond your potential.”
You pretend you don’t
hear me, distracted by
something other than my voice,
but I notice as you sit up taller
and hold your head a little higher.

“You can do anything you want,
as long as you read and dream.”
You moan, “I know, Mom. You’ve told me
that a million times already.”
But you look out the window,
thinking, wondering, dreaming,
believing it is all possible,
and your eyes tell me what I need to know.

I savor every simple moment
God allows you and me,
knowing it will make the difference
between what you can be
and what you will be.

I cherish and delight in
every rolling eye,
ignored response
and grumbling
because I know you
hear me even though
it isn’t cool to let anyone
know you do.

I won’t quit, no matter
how big you get
nor how old I am,
because I know me,
believing in you,
is your first defense
against the voices
of this world
telling you what
you cannot do.