My sweet ashwin

My dearest child!  You are mine and yet not mine.
I hold you only to see you grow and fly
Within reach and yet always out of reach

My dearest child!
She fulls colours with abandon
While her mum worries incessantly about staying within the lines

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,        
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you

Sweet child of mine! I call you mine and yet.. you are not... Child of sun and spring
I hold you only to know... you cannot be held. Every
You
rain and dew on leaves