Prose- Small Mirrors

Watching her walk away from the vehicle

Flipping her back pack over her shoulder

Head looking down as she crosses the grass

What will the day have in store

I watch and wonder

And hold out hope for her

Only the best is my deepest wish

If only I had some control

You buy them the bike

And teach them to ride

But you must let go

Even while your fingers continue to clinch

Love and protection

Go hand and hand

If only there was some bouncer

That I could tip

To get her in the VIP room

A life full of all that can be

Wondrous and joyful

While you are a little nervous for them

You strangely have a another smaller feeling

One of envy at all that lies before them

A part of you wonders

What if I could do it all over again

What would it be like

And who would I become

It has been said that

Youth is wasted on the young

But how could it not

With no possible way

To truly know what a incredible gift

You are living

How can a man born rich

Truly understand how lucky he is

He thinks that he does

But without ever being poor

The full appreciation can never be obtained

So alas maybe this is just another reason

We are so linked to our children and their lives

We at least in a small way

Looking in from the outside

Can once again feel joy from

These moments of the young

But this time with a full appreciation

Of their true importance

When you combine that

With the fact

That our love for them

Is 100 fold that of

Our love for ourselves

We can never feel

Even remotely close to the same amount of pride

For a major accomplishment we have

Versus a smaller feat of theirs

All of this renders us

Not just cheerleaders

Always in their corner

But in some way small mirrors of them

Wasn’t that supposed to be

The other way around

 

(Thanks for reading)

If you are a stumbleupon friend and like this piece, please share it. Thank you

Advertisements

56 responses to “Prose- Small Mirrors

  1. What an incredible prose. You have, in every stanza, hit the nail on the head. I felt like you looked into my thoughts and put them on paper. This piece was excellent! I have one son and you found that place in my heart that is dedicated to him. Wow. I really liked this stanza:

    β€œLooking in from the outside

    Can once again feel joy from

    These moments of the young

    But this time with a full appreciation

    Of their true importance”

    You also showed me how beautiful a prose could be. Thank you for sharing this, you touched my heart black swan. I am so glad I subscribed to you awhile back. I read this three times, with my first cup of java and feel like I just had dessert.

  2. You really did capture a lot of the feelings and thoughts we as parents go through. I was reading the email they send from the subscription and it was the first three stanzas and I was clapping, then I seen read more. I was so sure you were done and when I read the rest I was glad you weren’t. Thanks for sharing yours feelings and thoughts, maybe the children will see and learn something.

  3. A beautiful insightful piece that made me smile. I really enjoyed the last two parts, for children are supposed to reflect their parents but you so funnily show the other side of the coin. It is true your child’s littlest achievement is something you want to shout about. A great heart warming composition.

  4. Wonderful piece. Greatly enjoyed. The entirety just takes you through, so fluidly. Absolutely love how you ended the write as well:)

  5. You have vocalized very well and now have some understanding of how I have felt since the day you were born. Well done my son!

  6. The last few lines are just beautiful.
    It’s first week of school on Monday for lots of kids near here, and the beginning definitely reminded me of that special day.

  7. “…How can a man born rich

    Truly understand how lucky he is

    He thinks that he does

    But without ever being poor

    The full appreciation can never be obtained…”

    PROFOUND!

  8. this must be what mirrors truly mean. A time people believed mirrors could trap a persons soul when they died. this poem makes me reflect on that belief, that maybe truly mirrors are the children to their parents. a reflection of the past generation. so beautifully versed. πŸ™‚

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s