Looking out toward the sea, the day will come when each of them sails away into the unknown. I told them to stand there while I immortalized their silhouettes.
"What for?" they whine.
Because you are all that is beautiful, I command.
Because you are my heart, and my life, I order.
Sometimes mom-love is militant, and while it inconveniences them in times of ease, it comforts when the storm rolls in.
We walked home through the forest in comradery after that, lugging all the things we had brought with us, when suddenly the boy-man folded his hand over mine and took my heavy bag from me.
"Let me carry your bag, mom, it's heavy."
And the comfort during the storms of life comes crashing back my way... If only I could take a picture of that, my heart sighs.