My heart floated in the air and hovered around the ceiling. I tried to jump to get it back in my hands, but it was just out of reach. So since the moon was shining bright and beckoning my heart to leave through the window, I was moved to tears. A superhero arrived. You lulled it back and into your hands where you gently handed it back to me. I promised to share it with you if you would always protect it.
Tag Archives: Life
Paintbrush
Staring around the house with a paintbrush in my hand. I am not there to paint the walls, but instead to paint my life. I walk into the kitchen and wisp the brush over the table. White, and blue dishes appear. I wave the brush around my head and close my eyes. Delicious smells fill my nose and when I open my eyes I see the table full of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, freshly made rolls and grilled vegetables. The warmth of the food tingles my cheeks and nose and I see my brother point to my chair and tell me to come eat.
Around the couch I spread the paint and pillows with blankets appear. I sit with my mom and snuggle right in with a pile a books next to us. We read and we talk and we laugh and we sing and we sit and call each other our heart.
I take my brush to the front door and sweep it up and around. The oranges and reds become brighter and finally give way to an inviting yellow. I step out and see walk toward the future with my paint brush in my hand.
Still In Progress
Going Home
Behind the window pane I saw your smile.
Steam from a warm kitchen began to form
droplets and a fog.
A table set for four was spaced
holding blue and white plates with silver spoons,
forks and knives.
The moonlight backdrop showed off
the vision.
From the cold snowy night I saw
everything that you had to offer.
I shivered
and left.
These Hands
What will my hands make today?
They are open and ready for anything.
I wonder what I can fit in them
and if I can grasp it or just give it a fling.
I have so much potential in what I can do.
They can open and close, they can wriggle and snap.
They can count and be crossed,
clutch and make words just like that.
In the palm of these hands,
they can hold your heart.
Always connected to you
back from my start.
Questions?
When do you we lose our sense of questioning the world? I listen to my boys every day and their endless, and I mean endless questions. There is a constant line of questioning when we are getting up in the morning, when we are in the car, at nap time, bedtim
e and every other possible interlude in between. To us, it gets tiring.
“Why are the leaves falling off the trees?”, “Why do we have to put gas in the car?”, “What’s for dinner?”, “Why do I have to go to bed now?”, “Do you want a hot latte?”, “Where does the mail go when the mailman takes it?”, “How does the clock know what time it is?”… and so on.
To the kids credit however, there is the childish impulse to learn as much as they can about their world around them. Things that we take for granted every day are not missed by their eyes or their ears. Small snippets of conversation, books, and even musical lyrics are engrained in their heads. Little sponges.
As adults we often skim over these things in our multitasking world. If it is not on our list of things to do that will get us groceries bought, mortgage paid, clothes on back, and maybe a Saturday night out, then it is probably not going to be a priority.
At what point does our mind switch gears from sheer wonderment and imagination about the world around us and become goal driven devices? I am not sure which of these options is the best one to pursue. I am still trying to balance my childish whims with my adult responsibilities. I hope that I will always childish whims to balance.
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