some days
the words come so clearly so quickly, I can almost feel them twinkling on my tongue and turning into crystals or smatterings of fairy dust, and they fill my head with the longings of a poet’s soul. the longing is deep and wide like a hollow tree trunk covered in moss and fills me with shame and splendor The patterns dance across my tongue like a firefly on a dusky summer night and my mind’s eye chases them prancing over dry riverbeds singing and sighing with delight. I long to be both the pen and the muse to spread myself across the empty spaces in the visions of beauty and solitude like a goose spreads its startling song across the crisp morning air and then the baby cries or the wild one chants my name rhythmically, playfully so I surrender to the poetry of their voices and hope the words may come back after the laundry is folded before my cheeks are caressed by the pillow and my arms engulfed by tiny lips kisses light enough to make me fly
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We begin this way
purple covers pulled over my eyes small fingers tugging at the end, smiles full of morning light voices like the butterfly wings feet on wood floors loud as thunderclap. Peanut butter and jelly juice tea. our toes plunge into dewy grass sending shivers up my leg some days you dart back inside for horses, or swords, or capes, or shovels some days you find your place amongst the rocks and branches you assembled the day before you count meticulously and frivolously in the way that only a four year old can. Today you picked a dandelion and gifted me the bent stem and closed bud and I tried to teach you of a love that cherishes and does not covet. I think you heard me. You ran around the yard smiling and kissed every flower you could find. Days like this I feel that I am made of water and my heart seeps out of my skin floats up to the sky and comes back again as the morning dew on your feet. Today an ant crawled up my leg and tickled the sparse hair on my skin we decided she thought I was a tree my thick brown trunk firmly planted atop blades of grass. You put your hand on my knee palm towards the sun and waited for the ant to crawl onto your fingers and then dive back into the bed of grass. I think the ant is brave, like you. Tonight I have only one wish. That our kisses seep into the infinite strands of your DNA so that you are filled with the deepest knowing of how precious how treasured you are that your heart remembers the sword fights, wrestling and songs more than the scoldings that your eyes continue to hold the deep darkness of the earth and the wonderous sparkle of the stars the moon and the glimmering sun on salty seas I pray that you always know how Whole how Holy you are Kri-kra
Fallen twigs Crack beneath your two brown hands Your face blooms with pride Like Goliath sunflowers Curri-curri Curri-curri You dance a dusky ballet as crickets sing their feverish heart song And brilliantly the fireflies Punctuate each note Their flashes like a wish on a birthday cake. Do they know how they make this little ones smile shine bright as a falling star? Sweet raspberries A red Deeper than the crowns of your sun blushed Cheeks fall like raindrops into your nimble hands Brown and gray mosquitoes heavy with good wishes for their young will feast upon your supply thighs sweaty forehead curving arms as you dig tunnels, sift through fields of lilies, Dig graves for summer bugs crushed in youthful folly quiet fleets of brave mothers Will hum thanks for the bounty of life love is their might. Wrapped in the deeply certain comforts
of faith I roll out the quilt composed of my parents’ marital garb prostrate fully on my freshly cleaned carpet and inhale deeply the scent of blood and time travel the wonder of memory the incandescent magic of kinship I wait for you in the moments after the clatter and rumbling of trains across rusty tracks and loud bells that startle a young child’s mind into fear I see you in the large green leaves of palm fronds the taste of black tea and crispy brown pancakes in the gentle tumbling of a tortoise across wet sand claws sketching your name into my heart And in these times you are foggy like a dream and so deeply a part of me that I can hardly sense my self I can hardly breathe air that does not first cross your lips, filter through your lungs and travel space to greet my waiting chest I prostrate grateful for subtle bravery that can only be seen in hindsight; for words that sway into my mind heard and unheeded in my quiet rebellion; for nimble fingers that weave warmth for a sleeping child and aural tapestries of great white horses and sandy shores knowing that there can be no part of this life untouched by the beauty of yours Thus you continue coming forth again as I grow into motherhood and womanhood leaning your soft skin against mine seeping from my pores in memories I can hardly touch Imprinted Blessed Yours |
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