For Bryan
By Ellen Keel

Now, before they fade away,

I'll write to you of your baby days.

The curve of your cheek against my breast,

Your pudgy warm hand lying there on my chest,

Your trusting blue eyes that gaze up at me

And offer my peace and tranquility.

And there, at my breast,

You'll learn about faith,

And what it means to feel loved

And warm and safe.

For all too soon you'll be my "busy boy",

Crawling and learning and playing with toys.

But now and then you'll come back to me,

When you're hungry or hurt or just want to see

If I'm there. And I'll hold you close in my arms,

And marvel again at all of your charms.

My precious baby boy, my son.

Not the first baby, nor second, but perhaps the last one.

And the tears will come for all I might miss,

But happy tears, too, for all of the bliss

I've known, through the babies God's trusted to me.

Then I'll breathe a prayer, and set you free,

Knowing always I gave you the very best

Holding you, feeding you, here at my breast.