Seasons

My little man walks up to the plate,
Dragging his bat all the way.
He stands and waits for the ball to be pitched,
Drawing designs in the clay.

All eyes in the stands are upon him,
But he doesn't seem to care.
Bases are loaded, two outs on the board,
It's a lot for this mama to bear.

He slowly turns to look at me,
Sly grin upon his face.
He doesn't doubt his ability,
He knows he'll get on base.

The first swing he misses,
The second he swings too late.
A final strike and then he's out.
But he stays there at the plate.

He doesn't realize it's over,
'Til the ump gently nudges his side.
He slowly heads back off the field,
His disappointment is hard to hide.

Now he's in the outfield,
It's just beginning to rain.
But he's looking straight up in the sky,
"Oh look, there goes a plane!"

A few more innings pass,
And they lose 14-10.
I hope he's not too disappointed
That his night didn't end with a win.

He slowly heads toward me,
Equipment slung on his back
He breaks out in a huge, toothy grin.
"Hey Mom, what is there for snack?"

Seasons have come and seasons have gone,
And these fields I continue to roam.
Cheering him on from the stands,
This place is our second home.

Who is that running from second to third?
He isn't so small anymore.
The look of concentration,
In those big eyes I adore.

Now when I look at him,
The determination I see,
Gives me just a tiny glimpse,
Of the man that he will be.

I watch him now in the dugout,
Joking around with a friend.
He's learned so much more by now,
How to humbly lose and win.

He's learned about perseverance,
And what it means to be part of a team.
He knows you only get better,
When you continue to follow a dream.

Now as I stand in the ballpark,
I breathe the scent of the fresh cut grass.
So many seasons I've sat in these stands,
But they're going by way too fast.

So many lessons we've learned out here.
And memorable games we have won.
I realize with a tear of gratitude.
Baseball is helping me raise quite a son.


~ Dedicated to my precious boys!
I love you,
Mom