My most beautiful thing

Once, in the blackness of night,
I would gently lay my hand
upon your doll sized chest, 
place my ear against the red ripeness
of your lips, and listen

to the sound of the soft whispering 
– in and out, a tiny pause,
and it begins again –
of the beauty that is
your breath.

You’re bigger now, 
but somehow it remains 
my most beautiful thing.
Like an invisible heart-line

between your breath and mine,
its rhythmic flow, a soothing meditation,
a peace-filled reminder of all that is, 
of all that is possible,
and of all that matters.

Fiona Robyn, of Writing Our Way Home, has recently published a novel titled My most beautiful thing, which you can find out more about by clicking on the link below. Right now she is offering it free for kindle on amazon.

http://www.writingourwayhome.com/2012/04/my-most-beautiful-thing-blogsplash.html

As part of this, she has also invited people to write about their own ‘most beautiful thing’, which I have done above. I wonder what you would choose?

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3 responses to “My most beautiful thing

  1. I love this poem. It took me instantly back 16 years to my babies, but even this morning, I peeked in on my almost 15 year old daughter and just watched her sleep for a minute. Thank you for sharing.

    • Thanks Amy, and thanks for commenting. I must say I think part of the the pleasure of observing sleeping children comes with the peace, or absence of noise and demands, once they are asleep!

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