What my children have done to me

How do I describe the magical?
How do I explain what it looks like for a flower to bloom?
My children, God bless them, have done something to me…
It is a thing I would not have thought possible.
How do I describe what my heart does when they touch it?
If it were but only touching… then I could, perhaps, describe it.
If it were but only affected, perhaps… I could show it.

To say this is to say too much.
A flower was not made to bloom. A heart was not prepared to feel.
What words can I use… to show such deep feelings?
If the feeling could but be a tsunami, then that would show it.
My children, God bless them, have done something to me…

For truly… a flower has grown out of flowerless fields.
Not just one, but many… of all colors and smells.
A heart was reborn – remade, and is daily molded.
My children, God bless them, have done something to me…

I am not good. I am unkind. I lack gentleness.
My children… you overwhelm me with your sun.
The days are dark and lonely when you are not around.
You have changed me, my most special babies.
Were it possible and I would fly away with you…
Your little hearts in my hand… my God, what could be more valuable!
My children, God bless them, have done something to me…