Passing Through Poem by Lonnie Hicks

It's the laughter most I miss
and doing things in the sun.
I look in the mirror glass
and see a woman still young
loving, outgoing and fun.

Not ready to walk away from
looking for someone.
The ad said 'organized, goal-directed, person of heart
own my own home, love my son, reaching out,
coming back and moving on, ready for what's next.'

But the ad's responses were clear
They said
“Looking for woman with no baggage,
no children, no kids.”

How can love's issue, my son,
not be love to everyone?

Why is the narrow choice for me
between parenting or happiness?
Why not both?
Why not love mine and me?

I look at him and I do not see 'baggage' of any kind.
Yet many do.

I have the mother's dilemma
indeed all parents do:
lovers love
and give their best;
but nature has built me
for devotion
to children who
are not just passing through.

A man who understands that
is the one who loves me.

Hearts fire and passions storm
but true fire grows beyond it's self
expanding
into love,
not just for me and mine
but, for yours as well, indeed.

Those who cannot love the children.
are not lovers
but merely passing through.