FOR ANYONE LETTING THEIR BABY GO…
August has come and my spell has worn its time.
All the days, all the hours; her hand was slipping from mine.
When she stumbled. When she worried. When she needed someone to fight the monsters under the bed.
I was the hand. I was the heart. I was the fire. All the time. All the hours.
She was looking up. I was looking in and now August has come to take its claim.
So swiftly. So briskly, I can hardly breathe.
She is my North, my South, my West, my East.
Stop the wind.
Stop the time.
Bring back that sweet baby of mine.
August has come and it’s time to spread my wings.
All the days, all the hours: her hand is always in mine.
When I stumble. When I worry. When I need someone to fight the monsters under the bed.
She is the hand. She is the heart. She is the fire. Mother of mine; all the hours.
I look up. She is always looking in and because of her strength August can take its claim.
So swiftly. So briskly, I can hardly wait.
I’ll face the North, the South, the West and East.
She is my wind.
She is with me all the time.
I’m forever your baby, sweet mommy of mine.