You

You were made from half of me, 

like half an orange or half an Easter egg, 

like one side of a coin, heads or tails? 

And 

you were made 

from half of the one 

I chose to love. 

Formed deep within my being, 

joined in womb and heart, 

you became 

something 

of me 

and 

something 

of the one I chose 

to live my life with.

Yet, you are whole, wholly, you, 

not holey, you do not leak, 

not holy, because what does that mean anyway? 

I do not expect perfection, 

messy imperfection is preferable 

and goodness is subjective, 

yet you are wholly good 

yet you are wholly perfect 

when covered with dirt, 

when wading through the quagmire of life.

Let it flow over you and when it sticks 

throw yourself in the sea 

and let the waves wash it away 

but 

don't worry 

about the marks left, 

carved into your skin.

You who are wholly you, 

not half of you, 

not half of any thing, 

not half of any one. 

Just who you are, 

with all your quirks and foibles 

and perfect imperfections, 

which came from me 

and came from him 

I chose 

to craft you with.

You who are wholly new. 

Not half, not lacking, not missing 

any thing, 

not too much or too little, 

not too loud, all though 

I can hear you 

from across a 

football pitch, 

a forest, 

a classroom full 

of noisy children.

Stay under the radar 

I once told you, 

but 

ignore 

me, 

not 

all ways, 

but 

in this.

Never 

let me stuff 

any part of you 

away. 

Never let me snuff 

any part of you 

out. 

You are not a candle, 

you are an all consuming fire, 

so burn, 

burn it all down.

And when I am gone, 

carry me with you, 

a small spark within. 

To me, that is 

after life, 

that is 

eternity - 

the embers 

that were passed to me -

now passed to you, 

like the Olympic torch, 

you carry it forward, 

entwined with the embers, the flicker 

of the one I chose 

to melt with. 

And you go on, 

still carrying our 

small 

spark 

in the eye 

of your 

inferno. 

#ourchildrencarryourspark