To Watch You Sleep

All I can think all day long

is what I would give

to watch you sleep.

I watch you run and climb and jump and skip.

I just want 

to watch you sleep.

When you bounce around while other kids nap,

I think how nice it would be

to watch you sleep.

I'd give anything to rest

yet you fight it with a vengeance.

You'll do anything to not let me

watch you sleep.

You come up with every excuse you can imagine

just so I can't

watch you sleep.

You need to potty. You need louder music.

You need another cup of water. 

You forgot to floss.

Anything so I don't get

to watch you sleep.

And then finally

you're still for the first time all day.

Finally

you close your eyes.

I don't care that you're a sweaty mess of tangled hair.

I see a bunched up nightgown and favorite blanket.

I see soft hands and hear soft breathing.

I'm not thinking about how tired I've been

chasing you all day.

I'm not concerned with how tired I'll be tomorrow

chasing you all day.

For now,

I just get 

to watch you sleep.

And I wouldn't trade a moment.

And I can't believe 

God lets me be 

the one

to watch you sleep.