My heart breaks when I watch my child sleep.
He still slumbers with the abandon
of childhood innocence,
body sprawled akimbo
star-fished on the bed.
I listen to him breathe, I whisper love
and then I leave the room
and press my forehead to the door
as I close it.
I say the only prayer I know
thank you, thank you,
When the days are too long
and my limbs seem stretched in every direction
and I am scared and overwhelmed
I remember the words and repeat them.
The yin and yang, the dark and light,
the hard days alongside the easy ones,
I am here (miracle of miracles)
for all of them.
May I never get so comfortable
that I forget this is a gift.
The Coolest Thing about Gratitude.
Author: Keeley Milne
Editor: Caroline Beaton
Photos: Giacomo Carema/Flickr, Pixoto
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