Cradle

I still rock you some nights.

This new weight of you,

snuggled to my chest.

Your limbs, still soft,

which used to scrunch up close,

now dangle over the cradle of my arms.

I study the curves of your face,

in the dim glow

of nightlights and starlight,

tracing the relics of the baby I once saw there.

I wonder

If you know how you’ve changed me.

I wonder if you know

how your first steps were mine too.

How when you cried

so did I.

How your laughter,

so bold and untethered,

unlocked a brand-new joy

within me.

I wonder if you know

how hard I am trying

to hold onto the quiet days of the past,

while carving out

a future.

Safe and bright.

Dependable.

Mysterious.

Beautiful.

A future where my arms,

which have set you free a thousand times,

still feel like home.

And although your tiny body no longer fits within them,

they will never forget

the growing heaviness

which I imagine every night to be weightless

all so I can hold on

just a little longer.