I stopped growing up
quite some time ago.
Somehow my body knew when to say,
and then I no longer had to jump
for the potato chips
on top of the fridge -
I could reach them all by myself.
I watch my little one
and I feel as though I have suddenly
started growing up again.
I am not the unremarkable guy
looking into the eyes of my peers;
I am a colossus who stoops and swoops
a little girl
skyward with squeals of delight.
Together we are a giant -
she, perched on my shoulders and giggling;
me, dancing and praying,
"Don't ever grow up."
The books are climbing the bookcases because
the baby is climbing toward the books.
The inexorable march of
swaddling blankets to
playset and now
is pulling me back to my unremarkable self;
until comes the day when I am
but a man, fallible and balding, paunchy and somewhat embarrassing.
But I will remember these sweet, small days:
the colossus who wrestles with the child until we are both
breathless and giggled out;
the giant who comes in the night
bearing bottles and a fresh diaper;
the king of the house who bends his knee
to serve these ladies whom he adores.
All this begun by one tiny breath,
one blessed wail,
a hand to clutch my fingers
and eyes to melt my heart.
We are growing up together,
my little one and I;
and we shall never,
Thanks to Milton for the post that inspired this poem.