October 4

I am whole, and yet -  

A part of me circulates out there with 

Arms, legs, and a brain. 

Some days I am a talented artist

Sculpting smooth new forms and 

Giving my shadow pieces new color.   

Most days the bits slide through my fingers,

Slippery and mysterious as creek mud. 

I am led by the invisible tether between

Me and the other-self,

Both pulling me in stride and reminding me that 

We are not one but two poles on a string.

At birth, the visceral connections 

Prickle and buzz with electricity. 

A touch on this child is a touch on me. 

Over time, slowly fading, I wonder – 

Are they disappearing?

We dance together and apart, 

Mirrored movements and different music. 

I wake up one day and see

The line we share worn thin and fragile – 

Steady change so slow, invisible as the turning Earth, 

Suddenly appearing as a new season. 

I will not forget the pain and pressure

When my son came into this world. 

How can I when, over and over, 

It returns with each new growth. 

Everything hurts. 

The intense pride, the wrenching sadness

As his fresh heart breaks. 

We break together and break apart.

But, like his birth, pain brings progress. 

He will soar on my kite string until 

He snaps away for higher skies. 

He is flying, 

And I am standing in the sun, grounded.