Are you calling to me?
I dreamt of you last night. Someone in India had asked me
to care for you while traveling. For two weeks,
you'd be mine to watch and care for.
And in that dreamscape
where all lines cross and
one reality becomes another
you felt like my
little boy.
Then one day our group of travelers went to the mall.
A tall girl I'd befriended walked beside me.
I'd dressed in a pink and orange silk sari
wide skirt flowing at my ankles
just like the tall American girl.
Somehow
she was holding you now.
"I'm going to hold him for a while," she said.
My heart agonized
I had loved holding you
it was heaven
and I'd waited all day to be with you again
your soft brown hair and chubby thighs that felt like
my hands were designed to hold them
as you sat on my hip
"No you're not," I said to the girl.
"i've been wanting to hold him all day
and he's my responsibility. I'm watching him."
"Well, too bad, because I'm holding him."
I stood there, shocked
jaw dropped down toward the layers of
pink and orange
floral print silk.
Fighting energy does not belong around babies
I would not aggressively grab you from her arms
She would give you back later
But the grief...
Baby Boy Soul
Are you real?
Like in Velveteen Rabbit, are you real because
I love you?
Will you pass through my body someday
bewildering me with the sheer miracle of growing
from seed to full human being?
I would die with love for you every day.
Am I going to have you? And if not, why do you keep
showing up in my dreams?
Mama
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