One Day At A Time

I wonder how we are going to do this,

what our life and family will look like,

in what ways I will be changed and when.

Take one day at a time, I'm told, 

so today I cherish two hugs and a kiss,

hot chocolate and fresh marshmallows,

football and cartoons and The Velveteen Rabbit,

new Christmas pj's and a text from my dad,

an invitation to coffee from a new friend,

prayers at bedtime.

I try not to think about the big things,

about what's down the road, ah this new long road,

about what I read online that scares me yet again.

I crave the known and find myself crawling into 

my son's bed at midnight just so I can listen to his breath.

He sleepily slides over, makes room for me, and

settles his fingers in between mine before

slipping back into his dreams. 

Be still and know that I am God.

In the quiet and the dark, I rest and listen.

One son, yet again, teaching me how to love another.

I rise, and as this one day slips into the next,

I return to my own bed, to my first and always love, 

and to an innocent boy with breath and fingers and dreams

of his own that are ready to be revealed to me

just as soon as I am ready to believe.