The floor is a mess, with blood from her dress
And I must confess, I think I am dreaming.
It must be amnesia, uncanny finesse,
the freedom of being, in a new heart beating.
The merge of genetics, it was poetic,
Her face seemed angelic and it shook my core.
The immediate rapport was quite magnetic,
As I adored all her coos and her charming roars—
Her tremulous whispers, and cute whimpers,
That infectious glimmer, my eyes were caught.
I brought her in and soothed her shivers,
She taught me that affection I had sought—
I sat in disbelief, in that little sleeping thief
our motifs merged, my wife’s smile and my eyes
No surprise to me, that little petite,
Was baptized and disguised as the breath of life.
We spent so many nights in tantrum’s trice
As Twilight unsealed, the spotlights revealed,
And an inspiration pealed in glorious whites,
The moments surreal, and my patience ideal,
enough to take care of this Breath of Life.
But that breath grows and reservations sow,
And we know at times to question her cunning
At times she was bluffing, about her tomorrows
And Ghosts she was shunning soon will come hunting—
And I’m forced to be that net for her sunsets
becoming her outlet, when she needs to cry.
Prying rainbows from the sky when she’s upset,
Just to pacify her grief and keep her eyes dry.
But how do I do that, stop her from falling flat?
Should I be her doormat, to show her the way home?
Show her she’s not alone and always welcomed back
That wherever she roams, life can be postponed—
If only for just a moment’s notice
She knows this; then she cannot be alone
And I can bestow to her a focus,
To stay afloat and be strong on her own—
So I can finally breathe a sigh of relief,
Though the gasps may be brief, they are soothing…
And raising a human may lead to defeats
But the movement, when master becomes student—
I pine for that, for her to draw the line
And assign the place where it will land.
For her to understand that it is fine
To fall in the sand, but I’ll be damned if—
She doesn’t stand up and crossly demand,
A second chance to emulate perfection
Give herself direction, in this vast expanse
to substantiate conception, then reflection.
And I believe in her drive, in her strive,
That she will survive, and become something great.
She will consummate the breath of life
And I will venerate her, as she reciprocates.