A Thing Of The Past

You rode the big ride
but you didn't ask me to come.

I was proud of you,
but something in me sank.

Bittersweet, to watch you grow
but grow away from me.

There were days you needed me
for everything —
a thing of the past. 

I hope you keep needing me
right up until I'm gone.
And after that —
I hope you don't.

I think poetry explained is not poetry at all but allow me to give you reference. Last week at Michigan's Adventure I turned to check on my kids and saw Routt riding a “big” ride by himself. 

Bless you,
Pastor.