It starts as a seed. A thought of one day holding a soul.

The planted seed takes root and starts to change you – the opportunity of caring for and holding someone new.

It expands and shifts the energy you carry, the growing weight makes some of us wary.

The divine nine turns ten and the tension releases as your arms reach forward and eyes start to glisten.

She’s yours now to hold, savor, and mold. Oh what a gift to guide a life as it unfolds.

What can’t be seen is the tiny soul you hold. The one that feels, whispers, and dreams as it burns of fiery gold.

Hold her tight enough to know and loose enough to try, close enough to grow and free enough to fly.

For being a mother, means to hold a soul. And in a way, you’re holding your own.