as age moves into my veins
and brings wrinkles to my face,
emotions tug at places within
and brighten my eyes with tears.

at twenty i never would have cried
or understood my mother’s tears
on my wedding day, my own innocent eyes
full to the brim with smiles.

now i sit beside my growing girl
watching the autistic boy step up,
his voice singing out his solo
all the way to our back-row ears.

words elude me as the tear slips out,
rolls down the aging bones of my face,
the beauty of the moment lost
in the innocent young eyes of my daughter.