It is a game to him,
this ornament, a wooden star
spinning
on our four-foot take-down
decorated Christmas tree.
He taps with tips of hesitant,
going-on-two toddler fingers,
smiling…
enticed by the haze of motion
misting into winking lights.
I am his mother, told that
he should certainly be
speaking.
My child is smiling still;
his laughter clear communication.
It is a gift to me,
this Son, His spinning star
shining
over holy places in Bethlehem
and bright within our home.
The Never Normal 
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