The same boy
Who, in sweet, soft tones “speaks”
And plants tender kisses on my cheeks,
Is the same boy
Who yanks the sisters’ hair
And unrelentlessly climbs the stairs.
The same boy
Who loves to sing and squeal
And throw his food on the floor at meals,
Is the same boy
Who “helps” me sweep the floors
And put the laundry back in the drawers.
The same boy
Who nurses at my heart
And calls for, “Mama” when we’re apart,
Is the same boy
Who climbs upon my back
To soothe my aches with his little whacks.
The same boy
Who peacefully now sleeps
In arms that embrace him when he weeps,
Is the same boy
Who in love was conceived
And was the size of a mustard seed.
The same boy…
Will one day be a man.
– EstherV