The blood-curdling scream as I hold her tight,
Her legs and arms wrapped in mine,
Hold still little one,
For it’s only bloodwork, and it will be done soon.
If I could put her anxiety in a bottle,
I would throw it deep into the ocean
Never to return.
When something strikes that certain note,
Deep down, and tickles her mind,
Belly-shaking giggles erupting,
Lighting up her face and my heart.
If I could put her laughter in a bottle,
I would keep it under my pillow
For a rainy day.
The night-time cough, the hacking cough,
Seconds become minutes become hours,
Piercing through the silent night,
The sound competing with my beating heart.
If I could put her cough in a bottle,
I would give it to the researchers
To find a cure.
When I walk into a room and see her face,
Whether after minutes or hours or days away,
That smile, radiating from her mouth, her eyes,
Filling my soul with unconditional love.
If I could put her joy in a bottle,
I would share it with all who suffer
And save the world.
October 11, 2013 at 1:56 am
Katie,
Nothing can truly do justice to what you say:
Moving words, touching testimony are these
That from the loving heart of a Mother flow,
Like streams of crystal water from a spring.
Still, allow us to blend our words with yours, wishing:
Let there no longer be one trace left of a dark cloud
That even for a day on life’s blue horizons to interfere
With sun’s life giving brilliance on the sky.
When comes to human affairs, Robert Frost in ‘Bond and Free’,
Has poignantly contrasted Heart’s preponderance over Reason:
Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about—
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.
On snow and sand and turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.
Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.
His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.
October 10, 2013 at 11:20 pm
tears welling
Date: Fri, 11 Oct 2013 01:21:42 +0000 To: schmatt_@hotmail.com