Poetry Tuesday – Luke

He screams, terrified, angry,

And tears stream down my cheeks, wet, desperate;

I plead and ask what goes unanswered,

And wish with dreamlike vanity for relief and release.

Although his crying subsides outwardly,

I often wonder if he shares in my deep inward weeping,

Buried under mounds of smiles and the day’s busyness.

This…this cheap imitation of what real life

Is supposed to be isn’t what I purchased,

But this gift (?) was given to me —

Weary, wary me — so unprepared.

Then there is laughter genuine from his lips,

And I hold him, precious, sacred;

Although words are few from his mouth,

Sometimes words fail miserably.

A mother’s love, a son’s love —

These are unchanged by any diagnosis.

01/25/15 (written in response to my son’s autism)

 

 

Author: Cynthia "Cyndi" Hilston

Cynthia Hilston is a thirty-something-year-old stay at home mom of three young kids, happily married. Writing has always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the world of fan fiction, she finally stepped away to do her debut dance with original works of fiction. In her spare time – what spare time? – she devours books, watches Doctor Who and Game of Thrones, pets her orange kitty, looks at the stars, and dreams of what other stories she wishes to tell.  

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