He is brightness and joy,
the glow of the warm sun
rupturing cloud cover.
He is the boom-boom-pop of fireworks,
the roar of the mighty lion,
laughter rising from my belly.
He is crisp apple slices
and ooey gooey cheese pizza,
chocolate chip cookies fresh outta the oven.
He is “Follow me!”
“Come to me, Mommy!”
and “Just one more story?”
He is Hot Wheels races,
Magna-Tiles with Daddy,
our brave superhero.
He is not what they say boys are: hard.
He is sweet and strong,
wild and tender.
He is the leap of faith,
the spark of curiosity,
“Who is God?” and “Where is Jesus?”
He is scaling a sand dune,
chasing the tide,
pointing me to beauty.
He is the bubble bath, the fuzzy robe,
the last kiss before lights out.
He is not the seeker nor the one who hides but
the feeling of being found.
He is a prayer
and its answer.
// Celebrating my son, who turned 4 at the end of January.
Erin Strybis 
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