I am the mother of an autistic superhero,
I shine his symbol against a dark wall.
He’ll never walk, they said.
He’ll never talk, they said.
You’re wrong, I said.
They gauged his smallness.
I nurtured his growth.
He defied diagnosis and finally spoke,
I am Batman, don’t you see?
Spiderman, Superman he ran with all three.
I smothered his kryptonite.
Ignited his sparks.
Silenced the cynics who made those remarks.
I was right, I said. You just couldn’t see.
My boy can fly. When you just let him be.