Day 37
Soft mochi cheeks Pressed with silly kisses Gift sounds of joy
Soft mochi cheeks Pressed with silly kisses Gift sounds of joy
I wish the dogwood would hang its blossoms down for me like the showy clusters of the cherry trees But its slow unfurling petals only turn to face the sun
Sick child sleeping on the couch I don’t need to be sitting next to him but I am
At breakfast this morning we went to the beach and built a picnic out of sand with a sandy sun I held up in the sky to brighten our day
A tiny appleseed thrown into the compost was meant to be grown into a tree One of us did not forget
Ducks preening in the neighbor's yard Chickens hunt for bugs They didn't get the memo
Naptime is a mountain of climbing stairs checking in finding friends reading stories, again getting into bed, and arranging things just so an interrupted song a sweet cuddle
And at the top, you forgot was there, one last drink of water
Until finally, rolling softly down the other side, a sweet whisper in your ear
I pour myself out in drips and drops to make room to get through the day to hold my child when he cries because the tv came on to search other people’s words for something I need
Until finally it is dark, and empty of all but despair the world fills me up again with grief and longing
Everyday we wake We put breakfast on our plates We move our bodies, reluctantly We urge tiny bodies to follow the routine When all they want is to be held close All we want is to be held close