Photo Courtesy of Emi Lucille
Can I keep your hands this little?
Hands that are always busy playing, and making art.
Your young mind imagining the new messes you can create,
For your hopeful eyes to watch me enjoy, (and later clean up)
Your mouth curls up, as I praise your work and effort.
Calling attention to the most delicate parts,
to which you have drawn,
Placing before me and our home.
The tiny ears that you wear, you got from me,
You will never outgrow these,
They will always be small, but open to the world around you.
Soon, holding my hand,
And calling me mama,
Will feel strange, and
Do not be ashamed,
Your hands are growing.
My hands will remain unchanged.