My You

A child on mother's arm has slept,
A way of his affection,
And all his dreams are now so safe
To come in real action.

His mother breath is like a fuel
Providing ways or paths to take,
To be so sure, and be correct
On every choice he has to make.

In harmony and joy they live,
The dream, is just a way to see,
How close and near they can be,
As well as you, and me.

Together we can feel the life,
Together we can wave and care,
And every moment we can share
And any dream we will fulfill.

by Blanco