Catch the Sky

It is not ubiquitous,
not demanding or dark,
not boisterous or boring,
but kind and content,
this quietude, this inner equanimity,
this rarity, this royal rock,
this silent, still,
radiance of peace;
it comes out of wind,
a dove in free-fall catching
the sky with its wings
and liting on the soul,
this heart-space,
this ever-present entity
of light and love;
it is the wind, it is the sky,
it is the bird, the heart,
the peaceful soul.

in a backyard surrounded by sky.

Our little guy
points and speaks
and points and speaks,
repeats his sisters’: “stop-it!”
and his brother’s: “oh, man!”
my: “enough!”
and his daddy’s: “…love you…”

Outside I hold him
sweet and squishy on my hip,
he points in the air over my shoulder
“Sky, sky.”
I nod my head, “Sky.”
He points in the air over my other shoulder
“Sky! I say.
He points straight up
and we look into the air together
calling out, “Sky!”

He wraps squishy arms around my neck,
his sweet cheek brushes against mine
before he rests his head on my shoulder.
We squeeze each other awhile before
plopping down into the grass
in a backyard surrounded by sky.