As you glance up to me
Fragile and completely dependent.
The lovely curls that adorn your crown
Brushing gently against tiny ears
So soft as silk and precious as life.
The smooth dark skin upon your plump cheeks
An abrupt contrast to my own light skin
Pale as the moon against your chocolate hue.
The gurgles and coos that escape your lips
Ring like sweet music in my ears
A wonderful symphony.
I press my lips to your forehead
Kissing you ever so gently
Breathing in the scent of baby milk
and freshly laundered clothing.
You are most definitely not a product of my womb
You are most definitely not in possession of my genes
But nonetheless you are my own.
A mere number to the adoption agency
But a son born from my heart.