Dear Son Poem by Mitta Xinindlu

Dear Son,

You're my Sun. My bloom.
Through your birth, you gave me rays.
With your breath, you rejuvenate my days.
You're my light, my sight;
out of an empty gloom, you brought me.

You're my healing point.
My song of thanks.
A hope for which I live,
even when all seems too bleak.
You're the healer of my wounded soul.
The answer to my longing loneliness.
Your strength is mesmerising.
And so are you in all your rising.

You're a fearless gift;
one who seeks to find tasks to complete.
You're handsome and relevant.
You're gracious and intelligent.
You seek laughter even in tears.
A strength of a lion, you're fierce.
You're a protector without spears.
Your soul is valuable, indeed.
Your soul is a gift to me.

I would have chosen to have you,
even with nothing on my name.
I would have chosen you; always, and exactly the same.