journal fourteen.

I cannot wait for the day

My daughter is born

When she gets a bit older and says

I know, mom

She’s quite confident, too

I’ve heard it all before is expressed

I’ll smile her way

Pull her close and reply

Of course you do, my love

But to myself, I’ll think

Sweet child of mine,

There’s so much you do not know of

For you have only seen

But a fraction of life

A sliver of all that has been created

There’s so much out there

Your ears have not heard

Your hands have not touched

Your mouth has not tasted

She’s too old for this now

Embarrassed, it shows

She moves away, wiggles out of my hold

This stage of life

I’ll watch her go through

As her independence fiercely starts to unfold

It’s all too familiar

The pattern of growth

I was here once, not too long ago

So I know I can wait for the day

Her eyes grow big and she says

Mom, can you believe this? Woah.