A light hovered over my soul
though I arose anxious and frail.
I emerged out of the womb too big for the world.
Then human hands lifted me to you
and on your chest I lay for the first time,
and for the first time I felt
the pain of oxygen circulate in my lungs,
but you held me close for those months
until I could crawl, and walk, and then leap into your arms,
years passing from one to the next.
And then school, and graduation, and tribulations,
and every joy and pain a young man could feel,
and still then you held me close
and told me to emerge
from a world too small to hold me in.