Their little toes massaged with coco butter
Its past bedtime, but I know it’s worth it
To give them what I so desperately wanted
Caring for them, is caring for me
At age five and again at three

We’re tired
Exhausted actually
The beach disappeared, we stayed so long

What was your favorite part of your day, I ask
Now, they say
A gentle reminder for me
To just be

Like waves crashing and beginning
Over and over again
Moments passing

No push
No pull
Just here with them
Present.

Every moment, they’re learning
My words enter their ears and remain in their bodies
My hands, how they care for them

I am their guide
They are their captain
I keep them safe
They choose their direction

My ancient eyes
My family unknowingly gave me to judge
Remarkably replaced, with practice

My new eyes
To see
To heal
To be, me.

Their big, little blue eyes softly close
As I lather coco butter on my feet

Respecting them, is respecting me
Filling my cup
To quinch our thirst
To be held
To be heard
To know, we are capable
We are good inside.