Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo

My monastery is rich
with little gurus. They run
to me and tackle me
with their soft
arms, bellies, squishy
cheeks pressing into
mine.

They run to me-
feet planted on my thighs,
hands on my face- and chant
I love you,
I’m so sorry,
and will you
play with me?

My responses should
sound like Yes,
Yes, and Yes;

and they do.

My monastery is rich
with little gurus. They run
to the bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen;
they call me to the toilet, the bed, the table.

Before I’ve prepared their dinner
they call for dessert; before
I’ve prepared their bath, they call
for the stories. Time, time,

Time is not my own.

My little gurus come
to me each in their own time
and with their own teaching.

My ignorance is revealed
not by my reflection,
but by their own actions.

I hear in them my voice
and see in them my face,
and know what I should change.