Search

SisterJuliaArts

Month

February 2014

When I was that age
I was longing so hard
Straining to have fun
To reach out
to touch
and be touched
Yearning to be witnessed
and explored
To be found and catapulted
Into the honey sweet piquant peak
 of some sunrise ecstasy

I see their lives
flooded with opportunity
awash with beauty
and wonder if they are
 as There
as every ingredient invites them to be?
Or are they where I was?

If I stepped in now,
off my quiet shore,
Solid in my love,
In through the froth and playfulness
Could I dive in to that sunrise
Or would I be waiting, all over again,
to be swept?

Socks

Life ticks over in mundane ways
The ever repeating arguments
That take up half the day
The piles of things, wrappers, washing
laying in the way of peace;
Of pause without thought

Is a mother
Always twice the age
Of every other?
I see two years here, four there, feel ancient.

Actually ancient sounds good
Feels clean, honest, honed and wisdom worthy;

I am crumpled laundry faded with dust

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑