My Son, My Gift

My Son, My Gift Tiny fingers and little toes, How quickly each one grows. That little boy who sat on my knee, Is now four years older than three. A beautiful miracle from God above, Making memories full of love. Each priceless tidbit I wrap up tight, A whole days worth until its night. Like precious gifts under a tree, Each one is so special to me. With tiny bows to keep them secure, Gently protected until they mature. In the future when the time is right, I’ll unwrap each with such delight. And journey back to when you were small, Revisiting each moment in a crystal ball. I’ll laugh out loud rewatching you grow, Into this little man that I love so.