Grandchild

shiny, sparkling, darkening, brightening eyes change with the speed of light and emotion, feeling certain of the latest landing point I wander carelessly into arms needing a hug without warning the climate changes,
pivotal moments, captured, escaped, this is your home now, go away, I need a hug, will you play, monopoly, basketball, lego, splash me with the hose, do not splash me, heart so big it could break, perhaps, the rage that flashes like lightening is a broken heart, why did I not see the crack, the crevice so deep, before the arms, the words, the I need a hug, echoed back to me, anger covers sadness, loneliness, I do not want you to leave, longing volatile hope crushed by ninja’s protective armour, leaps and twirls into another hug held firm,

Love has never felt so real.

• 

Mother’s Day 2021

Sun is streaming in the window, glaring on the screen, over my left shoulder. My mother is dead. Has long been dead now. Visits often and sometimes I notice. The crab apple tree is almost in bloom. The daffodils are dying. Their splendor fading. 

 Our earth needs us to mother her today and everyday. It is awake with longing.

The sun is streaming in over my left shoulder. I hear the call of mother’s aching. Birds are singing in the trees. I see blue jays and morning doves.  I hear chickadees, song sparrows. They visit often and sometimes I notice. The bird feeders are almost empty again.

Our earth needs us to mother her today and everyday. It is awake with longing.

Sun is streaming over my left shoulder. Those I have mothered most, are distant geographically. Flowers, purple, yellow, white adorn my world. Photos cover walls and table tops. Love lives here and sometimes I notice. No touch connection no longer charms.

I am awake with longing