I watch as he plays with his Lego & trains,
The way that he lines them up, in the weird way.
I listen to how his breath flows in a rhyme
The seconds tick on with the sound keeping time.
His routine, do punctual. Nothing can change,
He appears to others to be slightly strange.
His walking that starts on the left, ends on right,
And steps that are constant. I wrap him up tight
To keep him from dangers he can't see exist.
He trusts me to make sure he's never at risk.
He looks where he's going, but has no idea
Of what is ahead, or if forward is clear.
He cannot adapt in the ways that the rest
Of us would, yet I know he's trying his best.
And wow! When he's angry, he just can not cope.
Frustrations are easy to lose him his hope.
But letting him In, knowing how his small heart
Is vulnerable to being so torn apart
Is by far the most precious thing I can do.
His space is his sanctuary. But he'll crowd you
If only you'll let him. Just holding him tight
Is worth more than gold, as I kiss him goodnight.
Who really knows how to explain how he is?
One minute he's fine, but the next, in a tizz,
Because Autism isn't what defines him.
He's my little boy, and I wouldn't trade him!
Simply beautiful, especially the ending which is full of inspiration, hope but - more than anything - love in abundance. I know very little about autism, other than how variable it can be from one person to the next, but I do know about a parent's love. They are our children, and nothing else matters remotely.