Behind those eyes 'Revised version'

Eyes full of wonder, a clueless mystery.
A puzzle with a picture, that only you can see.
Hidden behind those eyes, that I try to look so deep.
Memories bound in your mind, secrets that you keep.
Yearning to know more, not intending to pry.
I just want to see what you see behind those eyes.

Eyes full of passion, flowing creativity.
Humbled by your nature, your sensitivity.
Hidden behind those eyes, is a journey our love now shares.
Once we had uncovered what was underneath the layers.
Pure love, naked of disguise.
The untold secret, hiding behind those eyes.

Why do I write?

Frustration. anger. Am I losing my mind?
Sometimes I wonder if it is worth the time.
Patiently waiting for the words to flow free,
Why I write, makes no sense to me.
Something inside is holding me back,
I try to compensate for all that I lack.
Ignoring the block I continue to write,
but all I see is black and white.

Over and Out

I awoke this morning to my usual wake up call. Eight O' Clock, on the button. Only this morning, Becca had something in store for me. A surprise that she knew would bring a smile to my face, because when I opened the door, she was aleady beaming, as if she were saying, 'look what I did mommy.' Smiling from ear to ear and batting her eye lashes, she was so proud. Becca had pulled herself up, all on her own. Holding the rail, as if it were a prize winning trophy. I scooped her up in my arms, and smothered her face with kisses.
Looks like it's time to lower the mattress before Becca goes over and out.

Among the other skills she's acquired. Finger painting is definately one of her top three favorites. Food finger painting, while I stand at the side lines and let go of that little ounce of control I once had. Hoping that some of it, actually makes it into her mouth. She has become so independent.
Last night she dumped all the toys out of her box, and flipped the box over face down. She then proceeded to use it as a walker, pushing it while on her knees. Then pulling herself up so that she was not quite standing, but hunched over. I watched, amazed. Here I am witnessing a miracle, as Rebecca progressively reaches these wonderous milestones. What I can teach her, and what she learns on her own is what I live for. This is my purpose.

One day you'll be free

It saddens me, to see you this way.
That your personality has been altered before my eyes.
I didn't want to believe that this could happen to you, that you would never be able to recognize.
There is no reasoning, there is nothing, that could ever change your mind.
You plead with everyone, but all you want to hear, is that everything is fine.
Your world has become so frustrating, you can't seem to convince anyone that you are sane.
All the while you are losing your mind, the illness is to blame.
Don't forget that I love you.
Nothing will ever change who you are to me.
Stay strong, there is hope, that one day you'll be free.

Spoon for a giant

'Becca', I say in my most authoritive voice. 'No'. Her back legs continue to pump, pushing her body forward. She's on a mission. The phone cord has sparked her curiousity. A little hand reaches out. A little closer.
The sound out the kitchen drawer opening, brings her attention back to me. I pull out a laddle, and her eyes beam with excitement. She turns her body away from the forbidden cord, to investigate what it is that I am holding. 'Look at this Becca,' I say enthusiastically as I kneal down at her level. 'It's a spoon for a giant.'
I am amazed how something so small and so ordinary can bring so much joy. A beautiful moment.