Glimmer

I see your glimmer. Cautiously making its way through rays of blinding light and overwhelming darkness. Hesitant yet bold. Significant yet small. Reflecting sparkles of dust and shores of burdens. Secure in the knowledge that as soon as it shines, it will conquer. Deluded though by the imperfections. Sometimes reigning in to the temptation of mediocrity. Other times challenging the suffocating boundaries.

I see your glimmer. Maneuvering its path through eyes wide shut. 

Normal Day

But it's not is it? It's your birthday. And no one's there to celebrate it but me. Because well, you see, you're not here any more. Physically I mean. You're not in our world. You're in heaven. Playing with the angels. I see your beautiful blue eyes twinkling at the sides with laughter. I hear your giggles. I visualize your chubby legs and arms flailing in the air with joy. I kiss your rosy lips covered with drool. And I smell your baby scent, the one I loved, the one I can never forget.

I miss you my baby.

I miss holding you in my arms.

I miss cuddling you.

I miss nursing you.

I miss looking into your eyes, seeing the confusion lurking, and holding you closer to make you feel safe.

I miss your soft black hair, as dark as the night sky, falling carelessly across your forehead.

I miss your soft cries, signalling your need for me, filling my heart with maternal pride.

I miss your tiny fingers circling my thumb with a ferocity so uncommon for a newborn.

They don't know that for the world it may be a normal day. They don't know that I pretend it's a normal day. They don't know that it's your ninth birthday. They don't know that this day, for the rest of my life, will be anything but normal. That I celebrate your birth inside my heart. Alone.