I’ve watered and fed and loved your every change.
I’ve encouraged all of your growth with ardent amusement
in the uniqueness that is you.
I’ve watched you grow from a small seedling,
to a beautiful thriving budding plant.
I’ve shaped and molded you to be unique,
outstanding in all ways.
As I stand in awe of the beauty you’ve become,
the blooms on your heart are so complex so knowing and wise,
yet still very fragile and so easily bruised.
Your thorns may prick your essence;
I yearn to protect you and cant.
I’ve tried so hard to be your only need.
But as I stand in awe of the wild blooming garden you have become-
I realize that there is just some knowledge that cannot come
From a mothers loving hands.
Your need to seek outside the garden walls
that I have built so well,
has startled and scared me.
As I watch you outgrow,
the bed that I’ve prepared,
I also understand that I cannot
protect you from your thorns.
I can only make sure your roots are free
from the gnarled and tangled weeds
that threaten to choke you as you continue to bloom.
Please understand my goal is only to watch you become your rose.
As I fight myself to protect you from the bitter thorns
that threaten to destroy your essence
that I’ve come to know and love so well.