I tuck them into bed every night and wonder, sometimes aloud and sometimes to myself, where their dreams will take them.
Their bodies burn so warm as they stretch inside that skin. They lean toward the future as branches toward the Sun.
I can hold my breath but my heart keeps beating. Fresh blood for a brain that says just keep breathing.
We are one after all.
I could plant my feet and pull with both hands and plead with them to stay here with me.
Or just watch them grow.
Just let them go.
What kind of teacher never gets taught?
How many dreams never get sought?
They can fly.
Just watch.
The beginning...
