You have always been bigger than me.
You were born an old man,
Strong-featured like your fore-fathers,
Your great cries straight from your heart.
I held you in the rocker, attempting to
Mother and nurture you, taken
Aback as you held a tiny finger to
My lips, commanding “No,” to my song.
Your curls were clipped too soon.
You were one year old and eating
A man’s dinner, with two desserts.
Your tiny body saw no contradiction.
Skipping the toddling all together,
You climbed, slid, shot and leapt
Over every obstacle, each landscape
Posed not even a hesitation.
You never knew you were small, because
You were always the King of China,
The ruler of your realm,
The biggest fish in the pond.
When you show me that you’ve outgrown me
I’m not surprised. You have grown into
That boldness you were born with.
You have always been bigger than me.
Tasha Cheney © 2017