What would it take to lie like this again—
A happy baby, rocking side to side,
With feet in hands and nothing to explain,
No fortress built, no battlements, no pride?
The armor that we forge from childhood's end
Grows heavier with every passing year;
We learn to guard, to parry, to defend,
Until we can't recall what brought the fear.
But here you are: surrendered to the floor,
The ceiling holds no judgment, makes no demands,
You rock like waves against a patient shore,
Your own two feet held gently in your hands.
With those we love, the armor finds its rest—
For love itself becomes the stronger vest.