My little boy

my little boy
spills
over in my lap.

his tears
spill
over his cheeks.

i try to catch them.

but
my arms
are not so big
anymore.

i wrap him up
tight
as always.
but this time
the embrace seems

inadequate
insufficient
in its size.

but i hold onto
whichever part i can

for now.

because soon,

he, too, will know.

that i am not
as big
as he once thought
i was.

my little boy
is
not little
anymore.

These verses were inspired by last night's un-blissfull sleep. Musa woke up twice in the night, probably due to some nightmare, and I wasn't able to console him. Patting him in my lap, I realised that his legs literally "spilled over" my own, and that my arms couldn't reach round him as securely as before. He is growing up so fast. :-(