"And a Sword Will Pierce Your Own Soul Also"

I wonder what the sword will be, that pierces my soul?

Every first-born son will do it in the end: or even do it often. 

The casual forgetfulness; the blithe disregard.

Forgetting his mother in the first joy of  new love,
newly married and with cares of his own. 

A birthday missed, or a sadness overlooked. 

But here, while his life is young, he is the one that needs love - clinging, crying, feeding.

And while I hold his hands and coax him to walk, and help him turn those babbles into words

- he'll need me then.

Will he need me again? When the sword pierces my heart - will he still need me then? 

Or will the need be all on my side - his life opening up, while mine shuts down?

I wonder what the sword will be, that pierces my soul?

Pieta from Wikimedia Commons