Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘childhoo innocence’

Cut–

Posted in poetry, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 5, 2024| Leave a Comment » 

Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future. (Robert H. Schuller)

CUT—

The little girl stands
on her imaginary stage
made of ordinary maroon carpet
on an everyday Thursday afternoon.

A popular song drifts 
into the living room
from the kitchen where Mommy cooks,
and scrubs the floor.

She complains about how quickly
three kids get it dirty again.
The girl listens to the music and
mimics the trills, the rises and falls,

and emotions in the melody,
her gentle vibrato promising a
clear soprano voice one day.
She would have added gestures

for her make-believe audience,
but Mommy appears at the doorway
wielding her wooden spoon.
So-who-do-you-think-you-are?

Mommy turns away without striking.
Yet, the girl hears the warning
and retreats into the dark, silent spaces
between the lace curtains and window.

The song will not disappear.
She hears it inside her head
and saves the sound
for a safer moment

when she will lead her 
children to follow dreams,
write, discover subtleties,
laugh, cry, or simply be.

Read Full Post »

Innocence, Four-year-old Style

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 31, 2024| Leave a Comment »

Addie and friend acrylic

Innocence, Four-year-old Style

“Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven.”
–Henry Ward Beecher

I ask my granddaughter to take my hand as we cross the busier section of Sharon Woods parking lot, so I don’t get hit by a car. She’s my helper until the space opens into a park-anywhere zone. We have been watching her older brother play baseball. Her attention span doesn’t last two hours yet.

“Run, Grandma!”

No thanks. I’m old,” I answer knowing that keeping up with her is as likely as flying without wings.

“You’re four today,” she states running toward the playground. “I see a friend.”

She hugs someone. An older girl, tall and thin, ebony dark. Then she joins the other children on the playground equipment.

As the children play, I talk to the thin girl’s mother. It appears unlikely that my sweet grandchild saw any more than a fresh spirit when we entered the playground.

“Let’s go back and watch your brother play ball,” the mother calls to her daughter and siblings.

The girls hug again.

Today is my birthday. I didn’t need to unwrap this gift. It came open on a sunny May Saturday. I am blessed. I am blessed. I am blessed.

Read Full Post »