Insomnia revisited

Sometimes not being able to sleep is a good thing. Really good. In spite of going to bed well past eleven last night, my eyes popped open at about five this morning. I think it may have been because the Afrin was wearing off and my sinuses were starting to drain, but some ideas started bouncing around my brain and I couldn't drift off again. So I crept out of bed, grabbed a pen and legal pad, headed into the spare room, and camped out on my rocking chair. Here's what happened:


Strong Enough to Let Go

For a few fleeting months
I loved you unseeing, unknowing
forging a bond too strong to crumble
no matter the strain.
By the time you arrived in my world
with a fierce, triumphant cry
I could barely tear my besotted eyes away
to let you sleep an hour.
In those first luxurious months
I could please you with a word, a smile
and you clung to me with tender need.
By then it had already begun.
Too soon you pulled away, stood alone
returning for comfort, assurance
a little less each day.
My besotted eyes opened
I saw a boy instead of a baby
a child who would grow to a man
who would someday leave my world
with that same triumphant cry.
I knew then that I
must unmake what I had wrought
must teach you to forge for yourself
a spirit strong enough to let go
of me.
And so when I tuck you in each night
I hold you close
knowing I must let you go
a little more each morning when you wake.