When we remember those sweet, soft lullabys from our childhood, the ones that sang us to sleep and into a world of endless dreams and possibilities... we always remember the cooing words of our mothers.
When we grow up we may wonder where these magical songs may have gone, but they are still here… you just have to listen more closely to hear them.
The lullaby now that hums in my ear are not words to a song, but the beating of his heart.
The beating, that at times feels like it is coming from my own chest. I lay there, listening quietly to his heart and letting it softly beat mine to sleep.
In my dreams I still hear his heartbeat. The steady sound that lets me know I’m still in this world. The beating almost becomes the pulse running through me.
As I open my eyes to a new day, his heart is still laying there next to mine. As I wake and continue throughout the day, his heart beat becomes my embrace, never leaving my mind.
The night is never far away and as the sleepiness encroaches, I wait for my lullaby.
No matter the age, and no matter how far away the memory of love may be, his lullaby is still there… softly beating me back to sleep