Still New

A birthday poem-ish-thing for Naomi.

One year ago today, the morning dawned with fluffy snow.
We were home in bed by then, napping in the moment.
We made a bedroom cave, supplied with cosleeper and heater.
We stared and watched and marveled at your tiny, puffy newness.

Today dawns bright and sunny, fluffy clouds on parade.
You are still our small one.
You are not so new, but the whole world is so new to you.
You still smell of baby.
You are very much your own person.

One year ago today I became your mother.
I knew the longing before that day, but not the thing in se.
A turning-over step on the journey to adulthood
The same long journey, step by step, but suddenly in sunlight.