you beneath my christmas tree

you are loved.
foreheads together and lavender filling the room
and what more could i ever want.
what more than a tug from deep within to abandon all notions
of success and how to use this degree
and your expectations.
to abandon my list of to dos and methodical steps for living a life that's full of everything a twenty something year old should accomplish.
what more than this stirring in my abdomen that keeps me up at night
and wakes me in the morning,
that is fear
of failing,
that is exhilaration
of possibility.
do you see me as a small child, still?
if you didn't, then i would imagine you could ask me (me!) the questions you have.
pose the doubt you see and feel.
because perhaps i have answers of my own.
yes, try me, rather than waiting until i leave the room, because i am a woman of intellect.
and faith.
and ask me even if i don't know the answer because i will learn and we will learn together.
so i ask you, please.
see me.
and what more could i want than the outstretched hands of life setting down opportunities of life and energy into my own receptive and sometimes trembling arms?
what more than a growing understanding that all asks for sacrifice.
what more, what more, what more
could i want than you pulling back the covers for me,
and with the gentlest hands,
reminding me again that i am held.