sometimes y

when i first met him, he only spoke
in vowels. seriously, only vowels.
that's a, e, i, o, u, and sometimes y.
he entered my office carried by his mother
clinging with tiny arms and hands
to her neck in a death vice grip.
scared about the first day of school,
scared about what the other kids might think,
scared that he wouldn't be able to keep up
with the academic rigor that is kindergarten.

"this is mr. johnson," mom said.
he stared at me from below a buzz cut
with beady blue eyes.
"he's going to be your principal."

his eyes dart to the left, to the right,
back at me, and back to mom.
"it's nice to meet you," i offered
and he smiled quick and
buried his face in a sea of hair.
"i think you'll like it here," i said.

he pulled his head back and spoke
with earnestness in his voice.
"a e o, a e o u e e e?"

i had no idea what he said,
but i was mesmerized by this kid.

mom asked him to repeat.
"a e o, a e o u e e e?"
she smiled the smile that only
a mother can give her son.

"yes, sweetie, after school,
we can go to Burger King."

this was all the encouragement he needed
to make it through the day.
and it was all i needed to witness to know
that this was going to be
an incredibly rewarding year.

because when you only speak in vowels,
the love of a mother can propel you to
greatness.