The Watcher

It's midnight and I watched you sleeping. Quiet - fragile - repose. I see you every day so it's almost like I can't tell, but I remember you much smaller. It's like other children I once knew, but they're all you. It was a moment ago, but in the grand scheme of things it's like I am living the entire industrial revolution through from Horses to Space Shuttles. You are a century away from the babies that kept me up all night. You're beautiful and intelligent and self aware. Learning at a speed I can only dream about. Unencumbered - free - sojourning. I spare no toil to raise you right - the effort from which has aged me ten years.

My boys.

I know one day you'll be men. But for now I am the watcher.

Good Night.