My child...

My child isn’t my easel to paint on. Nor my diamond to polish.
My child isn’t my trophy to share with the world. Nor my badge of honor.
My child isn’t an idea, an expectation, or a fantasy. Nor my reflection
or legacy.
My child isn’t my puppet or a project. Nor my striving or desire.
My child is here to fumble, stumble, try, and cry. Learn and mess up.
Fail and try again. Listen to the beat of a drum faint to our adult ears.
And dance to a song that revels in freedom. My task is to step aside.
Stay in infinite possibility. Heal my own wounds. Fill my own bucket.
And let my child fly.

- Dr. Shefali Tsabary