Today he frolics,
and my heart.
Strength arising.
Living, playing, growing.
Mama’s close by.

Sure, I see the danger out there, 
and too close for comfort.
They could break his bones;
it could break my heart.

But, maybe, like glow sticks,
we’re brighter when broken.
Meant to be that way, when the night comes.

Maybe this is all a mosaic–beauty from shards.
Maybe that’s why I hope.

Or maybe it’s because I write stories. Because I know things have to go wrong
for everything to turn out right.

I don’t know why it is that way. But, somehow, it is.

Things start off good. Better only comes after worse.
Best only comes when it’s all done.
And it’s not done, yet.

So I hope.