I picked a perfect partner.
He fathers like a farmer.

He has plowed the fields of his mind
and culled the noxious weeds.
The ground in which he plants
he first enriches with the compost of love.
Throughout the rainy seasons and droughts
he coaxes his seedlings, encouraging
them to grow straight and tall
and true to who they are.
He looks forward with hope in the harvest
that he may gather honest fruit,
pluck the vine of kindness,
and glean integrity under a full moon.

I picked a perfect partner.
He fathers like a farmer.
His crop of children - they are delectable.

My brown-eyed baby, I balance on one hip
With his chubby legs, my body he grips

The blue eyed son is scooped and rolled
Close to my soft stomach, him I hold

Unmistakably my arms are about to burst
But hidden within is a new heart, birthed

All my doubts are buried in yesteryear
My love is profound, permanent, here.

Notes: In this poem, I wanted to capture the feeling of holding two beautiful baby boys in my arms. Often, I'm changing one diaper and then the other and carrying both children down the stairs to play or eat. Neither can walk and carrying them both is a delightful feeling of abundance. It is a physical experience as well as a heart experience. I worried endlessly about having two babies so close together in age and have found myself in wonder of the ways my heart has grown and changed to encompass and hold both of my babies individually and collectively. One of my favorite ideas from the book "Forever Or A Long, Long Time," is that love is never divided only multiplied. That is my lived experience and an immense gift as our family has experienced so many changes.