I’ve been writing a little bit of poetry lately. My brain feels very full of Maranatha Health and theory and programs and I find it difficult to sit down and write anything apart from work. But poetry seems to be the exception to this. I’ve never shared my poetry before – a little scary, so thanks for reading 🙂
Dances in front of me, fast and frenzied, and departs the stage
Again the curtains fall and before the lights are dimmed ready for the next act
I feel the hurried lurching of little lives
the uncovering of fate and fears and freedom.
A birthday, and new skills, and fresh individuality
Swirling into the shadows of shared history
And then, occasionally the moment freezes.
And in that moment I breathe in the sweetness of my children’s cheeky joy; I linger in my magic power to kiss away pain; I melt into the circling chubby arms declaring their love; I laugh at familiar punchlines that signal home; I stand in wonder as little hearts make room for grown-up failures in our shared life
But so often
the frame stubbornly refuses to freeze.
And life escapes and I run and we survive and days dissolve and the mess of life seems to pass by without any of us stopping to smell roses or daisies or sunflowers:
or the intoxicating scent of freshly washed toddler skin;
or the sniff of sweaty after-naps snuggles;
or the fragrance of trampoline-jumping joy and pool-splashing fun
or the post childcare aroma of summer days and sand pits and playing hard wrapped in the wiff of I’m-home-and-can-let-it-all-out explosions.
I will miss it, I say…
All the whilst wishing giant chunks of the not-so-good-days away, where illness and chaos and sleep deprivation and brotherly rivalries and too-much-yelling take hold and the exhaustion blocks out the smells of a life brimming with beautiful ordinary things
But when the pauses declare themselves
Aren’t they marvellous?
Aren’t these things we’ve created so marvellous?
And then the relentless weight of motherhood feels so…