Little Love Song to my Firstborn, Now Four.

Little wildflower blooming in the desert. Little drop of honey. Little chickadee singing in the lilac. Little egg still warm in the hand. Little strawberry with cream. Little smiling moon. Little dawn light on the mountain. Little arms around my neck. Little first rain of the year.

Little one, watching you grow into yourself is like watching a flower open, and open, and open again. Each petal unfurling brings us closer to the grace that is our lives, that spiral of love with no beginning and no end. Oh little sweet, how big you really are.

Happy birthday, my heart.

May all good things be yours.

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6 thoughts on “Little Love Song to my Firstborn, Now Four.

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