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5d • Share your Poems
My Son
So I've been writing this for about 2 years I think I'm done. I would keep coming back to it write a little then not look at it for months. Picked it up today and realized how long it is lol. Figured I would share it.
You didn’t arrive with lullabies
you came with paws too big for your body,
ears tilted toward every sound,
a heart already clocking the world
for both of us.
They call you a dog.
I call you the reason
my mornings learned how to breathe again.
You were there when rooms went quiet,
when coffee cooled untouched,
when the house carried echoes
I didn’t know how to outwalk.
You filled the corners with tail thumps,
with watchful eyes,
with the holy ordinary miracle
of needing to go outside right now.
You kept me moving
when grief tried to glue my boots to the floor.
You lean against my leg
like you’re holding me upright
and let’s be honest,
most days you are.
You listen for what I miss.
Doors.
Voices.
Danger.
The small, sneaky noises of the world.
But you also listen for something bigger
the moment my breathing changes,
the second my shoulders drop,
the silence that means I’m thinking too hard again.
That’s when you nudge me.
That’s when you look up and say,
without words,
Hey. Stay here with me.
You are fur and focus and fierce devotion.
A guardian disguised as a goofball.
A professional hero
who still spins in circles for dinner.
You ride shotgun in my life.
Through reinventions.
Through big plans scribbled on napkins.
Through days that pay in hope instead of dollars.
Through mountains I haven’t climbed yet
and nights I already survived.
You didn’t just save my hearing
you guarded my heart
while it was still learning
how to beat in a changed world.
People think service is about tasks.
About alerts.
About training.
About obedience.
They don’t see the real job:
how you stayed.
How you watched the man I was
become the man still trying.
How you kept me company
while I rebuilt my life
one idea, one poem, one stubborn sunrise at a time.
You are my son because you chose me.
Because you grew alongside my grief.
Because your loyalty has fingerprints on my ribs.
Because love this pure
refuses any smaller name.
So yeah
you have a leash.
You have a vest.
You have commands you follow sharp and proud.
But at home,
you sprawl across my floor,
steal my seat,
breathe slow beside me,
and remind me every single night
that family isn’t always born
sometimes it walks into your life,
locks eyes with you,
and never leaves again.
That’s why you matter.
That’s why you’re my son.
By Jason Strickland
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My Son
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