Its the new summer sky at dusk, 

its a weight in the air. 

From the window 

i can see the breeze, 

its in the branches of the trees, 

in the flutter in the leaves 

that dont know me. 

A new time is growing. 

Youth is now my gift 

and not my lover. 

Its a sadness, the realisation, 

but i dont want it to be. 

i am 

and have been 

everything.

i think its because 

i feel its she who will explore life now, 

not me. Becoming her mother 

is to give her my youth, 

because it changes me. 

Youth was perhaps the selfishness 

that can no longer be my closest ally. 

Now i must give and not take. 

This is the aging. 

She will have her first 

kiss, 

she will dance 

and discover. 

i will recognise it 

and know that mine then 

has already been done. 

Aways i have lived in anticipation, but now 

i see she has it all to come, 

therefore it makes me feel that 

i do not have it all to come. 

i am come, 

i am here. 

In her now i see 

all the potential that i did not realise, 

she can choose, whereas 

i have chosen. 

i love her. 

Her life begun 

shows me how mine is 

so far spent. 

i am still young. 

i will always be young. 

But no more 

will i be this fresh, 

this exuberant. 

Perhaps i am now a little quiet where i used to be loud. 

i do not wish to feel sorrow or regret, 

for since my own birth i have been so alive. But 

its a strange moment now, 

to reflect. To see myself 

in her so new. She is new 

and she holds me inside. 

How much of me will she take and 

how much will she discard?   

Do i want her to be like me? 

i want to understand her. 

She is unique. 

She will challenge.