As parents we watch
our children migrate through stages
cracking the shells of reason
losing their fluff of innocence
spreading their wings of sass.
We have bounds of patience
balanced with hair pulling tweaks
moments of calgon take me away.
We answer questions of why
why grass is green and stars twinkle
why cats have scratchy tongues.
Our children pass through doors
on the edge of boundary lines
testing our limits and facing
emotional complexity of self and
social hurdles of elementary survival.
We listen to their daily happenings
who’s not their BFF that week
what girl likes which boy now.
We patch fallen skies
ground sassy mouths
play ball until the sun goes down.
Watching our child grow bigger
we surprisingly miss the inquisitive
the annoying why of years past.
Our eyes open to the child of now
triggering sparks of awareness
we promise to listen more intently
not ready for a new phase of dialog
not ready for our child to fly.
© River Urke
