“OUR FIRST SON'”

In a room brushed gold by the hesitant dawn,  
We met the hush where miracles are drawn—  
There, swaddled in cotton and hope and surprise,  
Lay the world, rewoven, between your eyes.  

Our firstborn dream, our laugh made whole,  
A tuft of hair, a fragile soul,  
Tiny fists curled tight as truth,  
The ancient wonder dressed in youth.  

How small you are, how vast you seem,  
The wish we whispered into dream—  
Five perfect fingers clasp our time,  
In silent poetry, in rhyme and chime.  

You yawn, and years unspool ahead  
With stories waiting to be read;  
We see the sun you’ll chase at noon,  
The constellations you’ll tune to soon.  

We name you hope, we name you light,  
A compass star on our darkest night,  
Our first son—gift, and guide, and song—  
With you, forever can't feel wrong.

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