“When infants aren’t held, they can become sick, even die. It’s universally accepted that children need love, but at what age are people supposed to stop needing it? We never do. We need love in order to live happily, as much as we need oxygen in order to live at all.” Marianne Williamso
A toddler wanders wherever his curiosity leads
while Mommy and older siblings caution him.
Greens, blues, and moving objects call
to his curiosity. Come.
This moment is alive
even if he doesn’t know language
or time. Grandma’s wrinkles intrigue him. He sees intricate gold on her wrist,
not the hours held inside her memory.
To Grandma this moment seems
as limited as the space Mommy
permits her son to roam.
Toddler snuggles against
Grandma’s cheek. She knows
that all moments face limits.
Yet love endures.
Any fool can know. The point is to understand. –Albert Einstein
Strawberry Pie Quatern
Your handwriting in purple ink
resurrects you ten years after
your death when a recipe card
falls from a forgotten cookbook.
Tart, sweet, secrets sneak through curves of
your handwriting. In purple ink,
with bold color, you claim knowledge,
if only how to bake a pie.
Mom, you were taught to stay hidden
in the background of a man’s world.
Your handwriting in purple ink
trembles to be more than pie dough.
I apologize years later
for asking so little of you.
I long to see your soul shared through
your handwriting in purple ink.
If you're to choose to paint your life today...What will it be? Remember, you're the artist, not the canvas. (Val Uchendu)Color. A celebration because I see.Can I discover what is insideeach treeflower, blade of grass, bird on a branch?
Darkness and light, or a lack of privilege?
I close my eyes and picture the scene outside my window, every leaf, every bendin the branches, dark and light greensdepending upon the favor of the sun.Color, simple yet complex.Complex, yet asking no morethan to exist.
The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected. (Robert Frost)At dawn and duskthe sun touches the horizonwith the same elegance.I celebrate evening.Not because nightdissolves the sky's brilliance.But because dayif livedbrightens midnight.
terrypetersen 