I was born to be his mother
I squeeze him tight
Always the last to let go
I show him how to hold a hand
How feelings also make a man

I was born to be his mother
I wipe his nose
Look him deep in his eyes
I teach him words and how to stand
He teaches back, I make sure he knows he can

I was born to be his mother
I turn the sound down so he can hear
I make the lights bright so he can feel warmth
We play in puddles and build with sand
I thought he’d walk, but then he ran