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!”
then whispering
“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.
Tag Archives: loving
Kingdom-Seeker
I stand in the kitchen;
oil sizzles in the pan, dishes clink on the counter.
He wraps his baby arms around my leg,
chest and cheek pressing against knee and thigh.
“I la loo, I la loo, Mommy.”
I am his tree, rooted in his new soil.
I lie on the floor;
legs hover above the carpet, back lifts away from the ground.
He climbs his baby body on top of me,
hands and knees on ribcage and belly.
“I la loo, I la loo, Mommy.”
I am his path, worn in his new ground.
I kneel, hips over heels, near the piano;
clothes stack up neatly, towels wait in a heap.
He plops his baby bottom on my lap,
Legs on legs, hands on hands.
“I la loo, I la loo, Mommy.”
I am his rock, passing ancient time on his new land.
He doesn’t know it yet, but he is kingdom-seeking;
his is a loamy garden, sandy, full of loose clay and black dirt.
He learns love,
and he loves.
Christ in Love; Christ in All Things
“Through [Christ]…let us continually offer God a sacrifice of praise, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have; God is pleased by sacrifices of that kind.” ~Hebrews 13: 15-16
My babies have been scooting
little cars and trucks over the furniture,
have been twirling themselves over the soft fuzz of carpet in the living room;
I sit at the top of my mat giving thanks and praise to God
for my life, family, prayer, and practice;
I cross myself in the name of our triune God,
hop to my feet, fold and roll my mat, and
my babies run, skip, and giggle toward me
holding out the purple velcro strap they know
I use at the very end.
My babies snuggle down to the bottom edge of their pillow,
pull the blankets to the bottom edge of their ear
and wait in their bed for a kiss.
I bend, lean, and reach over
tracing the cross on their forehead,
“God bless you, for ever and ever and always,” I whisper.
They pull my face close, small hands on my cheeks,
“God bless you, for ever and ever and always,” they whisper
in soft, tired voices. They reach out their arms
for the hug they know comes at the very end.
Generous Wisdom | Spacious Heart 