Last night, My son sat on my lap And laid his head down on my chest, And I gently rocked him back and forth The way I used to do When he was an infant. As a toddler, Sometimes this was the only way To get my son to sleep, And I cherished these times we had together, Just the two of us, Rocking gently back and forth, Not a care in the world. Now he is almost 9 years old, And yet he still wants to be held, Still wants to be rocked. But time has passed, His feet now touching the floor As we rock together. Soon, I am afraid, He will be too big to hold, Unless there is a stopping of time. So I will hold him while I can, And hold on to the memories of our moments spent together. Father and Son, Battling the passage of time. By Odis E. Shultz September, 1999 http://www.geocities.com/heartland/trail/8488/
Reason for writing:
My son, age 8, has autism and is developmentally delayed, so while his body is of an 8 yr old, his developmental level is younger. At times, this makes it hard as he does not understand that he is getting to be too big for some things, and yet he is still not "big" enough for others. That was the reason for this poem.
Birth sign: Cancer
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