When first you hold that new babe in your arms,
You vow to protect him from all evil or harm.
No love like this have ever you known,
Until you hold this new life, this babe, your own.

The years pass by and with every scrape and tear,
You pull your small one close and hold them near,
Wishing deep in your heart you could take every pain,
Make it yours to withstand, but alas, this wish is in vain.

Our babes must hurt, must suffer and grow,
All the while, we watch, our hearts aching so.
We do what we can to protect them and yet,
In spite of us, somehow, they grow and we fret.

We worry when they are late from a date,
We imagine them lost to the worst kind of fate.
Eyes rolling and with huge sighs at our concerns,
They ignore our admonishments and skip up to their rooms.

Even after you have both lived through those teenage years,
Filled with drama, angst, heartbreak and tears.
When they have become adults on their own,
That protective feeling is there where’re’ they may roam.

And when you hold their young babe to your breast,
The protectiveness renews itself with the little one’s breathe,
The circle of life goes on and the love is revived,
When your babe becomes a young parent. This is good.  This is life.