She cuddles beneath purple fleece,
knees pulled up and restless, melancholy
as Milne’s Donkey, that stuffed lovey
dangling by an ear from her thumb-sucking hand.
There are days I ride the waves of this energy,
and days I’m frustrated and mystified,
but this day I’m struck; my perspective tilted,
and I see her as she is:
the great work of hands I don’t often notice,
sculpted perfection refined and refining,
more unique than ice crystals falling
through our atmosphere.
She is blessed, mysterious, achingly,
deeply passionate, intensely loving
and intensely loved. She’s working on it,
saving it up, storing all that energy for
the great love-work she’ll do in the future –
the great love-work she’ll do in the Infinite Now.
“How necessary it is to cultivate a spirit of joy. It is a psychological truth that the physical acts of reverence and devotion make one feel devout. The courteous gesture increases one’s respect for others. To act lovingly is to begin to feel loving, and certainly to act joyfully brings joy to others which in turn makes one feel joyful. I believe we are called to the duty of delight.” ~ Dorothy Day
He hurls himself
onto my leg, my chest,
from everywhere in the house
he comes flying across the floors,
bare feet smacking the wood and padding the carpet;
he is laughing, or crying, or thinking as he runs,
but always he is shouting
“I Love You, Too, So Much!”
“i love you too so much”
and he squeezes me
and then he is gone
and I will soak it in while I have him,
while he fits in my arms.