My son....

He wakes up early every morning,
That's when his body tells him to.
Morning is his best chance to piddle on the computer
With no interruptions.

When he sees me getting up,
He smiles and turns off the computer
And immediately asks me how I've slept.
"Good" I say, "And you?"
"Oh I slept great." he says, his voice lower as he's grown,
But soft just the same.

His gentle spirit moves forward through every day,
Doing everything he can to stay comfortable.
He makes sure he smiles at the appropriate times,
He's observed the rest of the kids his age well.
Any other child might have lost himself in this process,
But not him.
Through it all, he has stayed himself.
His wise, experienced spirit has stayed strong.

His wheels turn in ways that only he can understand.
I've begged him to teach me...
To show me what he knows in there.
It must be so beautiful.
One day, he will...
And I will be amazed,
As I always am,
As I always have been
When it comes to him.

Growing Wings...

"You know where you are with floor collapsing, floating, bouncing back. And one day I am going to grow wings, a chemical reaction. Hysterical and useless, hysterical and let down..." ~Radiohead

The gift of a seven year old boy...

When he came out of the pool, treasure in his hand, he was absolutely beaming. The cold, slimy creature sat limp in his hand, the middle of the tiny body pulsating indicating a heart beat...

For hours he touched it, poked it, tried to make it jump. But the tiny frog was somehow content just to stay in his hand. A baby, once stuck in a whirling pool of water, sure to die, my son gently placed this small creature in a bed of flowers. It was at that point that he finally took a tiny leap. But tiny as it was, it made my son feel like a hero...