Friday, March 13, 2015

 
 
 
Today I will remember
 the way the wind blew Oliver's hair
 as he ran outside.
He looked like he was flying as he ran along
 happy and free as only a little boy can
 in rubber boots and bare legs.
The world around him blurred bringing him into sharp focus.
He was all I could see
bright and clear all yellow hair and rosy cheeks, blue shirt and boots.
He let himself out of the house and ran to join his brothers,
away from the suggestion of a nap that he new was brewing in my mind.
I let him go
 watched as he ran free in the thawing air
and my heart ran with him.
Watched as he picked a clump of grass,
lifted his face to the sun,
 then ran to me to show the handful of 'hair' that he had picked.
'Is grass the hair of the earth?' I ask
Back and forth he runs, up and down, in shadow and full light,
happy and free,
the wind blowing his hair. 
 
 


Monday, July 14, 2014

 
 
Little Boys, Sometimes
 
 
Little boys sometimes leave the seat up
 and have dripping wet hands even though they dried them.
Little boys sometimes put their clean clothes in the laundry
and wear their dirty ones again.
Little boys sometimes nod and say okay
even while their finger is still in their nose.
But,
 Little boys always skip when they are happy
and sing to themselves in the bathroom.
Little boys always do things just for the feel of it
and willingly share their treats.
Little boys always forgive right away
and are brimming with ready love.


Saturday, February 16, 2013

Bath Day

On Saturdays I give the children their good bath.  
The one where I clean out their ears.
Afterward I hold each pink, soft little hand and trim their nails.  
I brush their hair to lie smoothly on their heads
(it will be every which way when they wake up).
Their faces are sparkly with splash induced smiles.
Their eyes are happy.
I put my arms around their little bodies.
Bodies that are becoming lanky, gangley arms and legs trying to fold up onto my lap.
Little E's still do.
Big E's spread out to dangle all around me.  
During the week I have to gather up the scraps of energy left at the end of the day, often I choose stories instead of baths when there's not enough for both.
All that hurrying and noise at the end of the day.
Saturday graces us with time.
When the week is over I look forward to working the lather through their hair.
Their  peaceful upturned faces as I slowly pour water over their backs. 
All week I make them do everything they can do for themselves.
They do lots of jobs for the family.
They do lots to help me.
This time I do for them.
It is a gift.
It feels like love.
When they are all tucked in 
with as many hugs as they want, as much time as they need,
After soft cheeks and kisses have been pressed into palms, to keep there till morning,
I feel so happy. 
So lucky that I have them.
That they are mine to wash and trim and brush.
To care for someone in such a way, meet their most basic needs
I feel is an honor.
A trust.
I will keep it.
And know that it is good.