the young prince

my littlest littlie
the heir and son
the prince
apprentice and neophyte
beginner and novice
future lead guitarist
brain surgeon
abbot
poet
lover
painter
candlestickmaker
never a lawyer or banker or engineer or dentist or ...
economist!
he loves the early hours
it is not long in the mornings that i get time alone
before he appears
dog in hand
dragged by the ear like some faithful companion
and lies across me while i am still and silent
and then
from nowhere
the questions begin
the who what when where why
all things he knows
familiar ground for both of us
seeking reassurance
grounding
i know this man
(i am sure this is what he is thinking
or perhaps knowing, i mean
who actually thinks at 5 in the morning?)
i know this man
thinks the young royal
by the way he answers these things
the smell of fresh coffee that hangs around him
his jiggling leg
his two word responses
and i know i can get to him
just by stroking his cheek at the right time
or giggling at some
imaginary joke of my own
or stealthly creeping off the couch
and blowing out a candle
so eventually i make the littlest a milk n organic honey
and we sit at the table
me with my book
buddhism for mothers this week - go figure
and he with his dog and spoon
slurrping
and i wouldn't be
without
any
of
it.

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