It's the laughter most I miss <br />and doing things in the sun. <br />I look in the mirror glass <br />and see a woman still young <br />loving, outgoing and fun. <br /> <br />Not ready to walk away from <br />looking for someone. <br />The ad said 'organized, goal-directed, person of heart <br />own my own home, love my son, reaching out, <br />coming back and moving on, ready for what's next.' <br /> <br />But the ad's responses were clear <br />They said <br />“Looking for woman with no baggage, <br />no children, no kids.” <br /> <br />How can love's issue, my son, <br />not be love to everyone? <br /> <br />Why is the narrow choice for me <br />between parenting or happiness? <br />Why not both? <br />Why not love mine and me? <br /> <br />I look at him and I do not see 'baggage' of any kind. <br />Yet many do. <br /> <br />I have the mother's dilemma <br />indeed all parents do: <br />lovers love <br />and give their best; <br />but nature has built me <br />for devotion <br />to children who <br />are not just passing through. <br /> <br />A man who understands that <br />is the one who loves me. <br /> <br />Hearts fire and passions storm <br />but true fire grows beyond it's self <br />expanding <br />into love, <br />not just for me and mine <br />but, for yours as well, indeed. <br /> <br />Those who cannot love the children. <br />are not lovers <br />but merely passing through.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/passing-through-8/
