I don’t want silence, I don’t want space,
I want sticky fingers and a messy place.
I want tiny shoes lined up by the door,
Giggles and whispers and toys on the floor.

I want late-night cuddles, a toddler’s embrace,
A partner to love, to grow old face to face.
To sit on a porch swing, gray hair in the breeze,
Our grandkids all laughing, climbing our knees.

So where is this life? Is it waiting for me?
Or will I just dream it and let it go free?