I was intruding, I know it. As I gazed upon the intimacy of mother and child in this cocoon of safety and acceptance. I heard the child in me whisper, “Look, what’s that? I have never felt that before.” I felt that childish urging, begging for me to look, asking me what they were doing. My child is a child deprived of intimacy.
Confused dear, I can never tell that child No. So I look closer, look upon the normality of the mother. What’s a mother? No, its the child that my child is interested in. Looking upon the child, I smile bitter sweetly with unthreatening jealousy. I let the feeling come and go.
That feeling wanders in when ever I see a joy filled child. It’s nothing new to me. I look closer at that child’s face. His being spilling with joy and trust. I suddenly wish I could hold him. I wish I could feel his inner dwellings, against my flesh that has never known either. I ache with the yearning to reach out, take hold of him, and touch him. Just touch him. Somehow get close to that amazing thing.
I watch his miniature hands wander over his mothers shoulders so leisurely like practice. I look back up at his face where his eyes have settled upon my intrusion. He stills, his mother takes no notice, his eyes acknowledge me for an instance with discomfort then wander on with disinterest. I think I want cry. I think he is so beautiful.
I think I feel alone, curious, and encouraging all at once. Yet, I am smiling again as he laughs my way. I want this stranger of a boy to be happy. I don’t ever want him to be like me. It’s my deepest blessing, that this beautiful being, never knows what I have known. I want to kiss his smooth cheeks. I want to play with his little open hands that keep wandering. I want his little arms warm and plush with health to chamber me.
I want to put my nose into his warm trust and smell what it feels like. I want to gently handle his tiny frame until my curiosity is sated. If it is ever sated. I love him. I feel so empty and I love him. He is like Peter Pan to me. I want to fly after him, following his shadow of bliss.
Every moment watching him I feel a glowing within. I can taste his profound serenity and he is so pure to me. Quite suddenly, I wish bitterly, that he never grows up. I love him so dearly in just a moment that it is unbearable. I love him too much and I hardly love myself the right way in any instance. A baby can be so precious, beyond our understanding of precious.
I understand him preciously. I wonder if his mother loves him right. I wonder if she looks upon him with wonder and uncontrollable love. I hope he is adored and will always be. I could stare upon him forever. In his endless dark serene eyes. I think I did in that moment. I think I stared at his Essence and all the Essence’s. I think I got lost in loving.
I think God of Essence was there and enchanting me. I think The Essence swims in the oceans of children the way it never can in an adults small pond. I don’t want to be an adult. I want to be an ocean , a sea, I want the Essence to swim in me. Maybe I am mistaken and I never wanted to be. I DON’T KNOW. Hmm, maybe I am a child.