I’m in a poetic mood tonight. As a poet as well as a story writer, I think sometimes a poem can say a lot about what a person is thinking and feeling better than a story. So I wanted to try something different on my blog and tell my story in poetic form instead of story form. Here it goes:
Time to let him go.
Bambino is asleep now.
Sleeping so peacefully,
it’s time to move out.
Waiting, anticipating, for the wake up call,
to change his diaper, to feed, to comfort my little munchin’
during the night time hours.
But for the past two month,
I was stalling,
because I was scared
to let him go.
I didn’t want to move out.
I needed him more than he needed me.
Didn’t think I could be so
selfish, wanting to be with him more.
Bambino’s cries are a rarity now,
most of the time,
I don’t get the crying call,
and I was willing to wait around
one more night for his cry.
His cry for help.
and cradle cap problems,
I felt that he still needed me more.
But not anymore.
I knew he was fine.
But I still couldn’t let him go.
I dragged this on too long
It was suppose to be only until he slept through the night.
Bambino’s easier now.
He’s growing now,
more confident now.
It’s true, I see
that he doesn’t need me.
Like in the beginning.
It’s time to move out.
to the comfortable bed that I neglected so long ago.
Keeping the baby monitor close to my pillow just in case
when I can hear his crying call,
I will run down the stairs and into the hall.
and tell myself it is for the best
that I leave his room.
Trusting that he will be ok,
No, that I will be ok.