When I held my baby boy
I was filled with love
For all that he was to me; to us:
And for all that he might have been:
Soul, spirit and small perfectly formed body
Old, gentle, compassionate, loving soul in
New, soft, sweet smelling rounded body
I held the warm weight of him in my arms
And bathed his face, his closed eyes, with wet fresh kisses
So little time to give him a lifetimes worth
Struggling against the weight of worlds torn asunder
And to hold him
To hold presence of mind
To have consciousness in that moment
To remember
To remember every detail….
Becci Eriksson
Oskar bd. 22nd June 1999
