Fly like the wind, my boy
when you find that one thing
the true thing you were born into
embrace it, and
fly like the wind.
For so long I’ve tried not to think
of the day you will fly away
instead, I tried to lift you up
and give you wings,
hoping you would not go far,
hoping you would always return.
Now I see you already soar
the way you were born to,
your circles around the sun
destined to light your way,
destined to light your life.
In dreams, we may run-fly-wander
through fields sun-kissed with wildflowers
but already I see you above me, stretching free,
head tossed back in rapture:
Fly like the wind, my boy.
Though you roam,
this, here, will always be home.
So go, embrace the sky,
I will wave each time you pass by.
Fly like the wind!
On NaPoWriMo day 14, a poem for my son the day before his 11th birthday, inspired in part by his newfound love (and skill) for running.