Between Bruises and Blooms

Some people hear
“Teddy Bear”
and think of something soft.

I think of someone safe.

The little arms
that wrap around my neck.

The sleepy head
that still finds my shoulder.

The smile
that can untangle
the hardest day.

You’re growing taller
than yesterday,
braver than last week,
stronger every season.

But somehow…

you’re still
my Teddy Bear.

Not because you’re little.

Because home
has always looked
a little bit like you.