This is a poem I wrote for my son back in 2005 that was subsequently published within a larger collection. In honor of Autism Awareness Month, I’d like to share this with you all. I do not mind if you circulate the poem, but please honor the copyright. He was diagnosed in 1997 (at about 16-18 months of age) with the classic form of autism. He is now 15.
Graced by God, you were given to us,
but like quicksand, you swiftly left
into a silent storm of autism.
Diving in after you, unwilling to surrender you
to this entity that ensnared your soul,
we made contact.
Your eyes, emerald and gray, began to meet ours again,
slowly holding the gaze seconds longer.
Like ants on a mountain, we fight for every inch of ground,
the elements always undermining some of the territory gained.
With streams of overflowing gratitude for every look, every touch,
every sound, every action you accomplish,
feeling blessed for the differences that set you apart,
that make you our very special child,
graced by God and given to us.
Hilda Clark Bowen
Copyright ©2005 Hilda Bowen
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