Little one in my belly,
you have hiccups again
making you so real.

The sun sneaks in on the rain
and with a subtle breeze
moves my hair and teases

our porch chimes. Arabesque
by Debussy is playing in the kitchen
and I enjoy the beauty of the moment.

Teague, you will come any day. How can I
make this time more real? It is brushing
right past me in the swiftest of colors

… vivid and bright, deep and rich…
There is a life, a pulse and just a thought
of you, for that is all we have until

the moment you arrive.
What will your story be?
Your bright dream?

Your wishes?
Will you pause
and enjoy soft

moments with me?
When the first of fall leaves
escapes trees and drifts down

around us…
perhaps to the dance
of another piano composition.

I’m sure we will run wild!
We are so blessed with this
world of treasures.

May we drape each other
in sudden bursts of mystery
and joy. Wrap each other

in cleansing tears
and imagination running gold.
YOU are the puzzle I will never

need to solve, where all the pieces
will fit right at their own time…
settling into my heart so perfectly.

I am your mother,
and you… you are
magic.