Sometimes we get so distracted with our goals and careers when all along God has given us the richest gifts in the faces of those we love. Here’s a poem I wrote about our daughter who is almost three years old now.
You lie down
and softly ask for “leche”
it’s your way
of coping with
our twelve-hour separation.
I say,
“OK, I’ll get you leche,”
but leave you to
soon drift to sea—a dream world awaits…
I wonder what you
think about in your crib,
suspended between
your dark room
and the colors of your imagination.
Wonder how
you rise with so much
eagerness in your eyes, all to do
the same thing.
The morning routine
brings you a joy
I think only God,
who tells the sun to rise
around the same time
every morning, fully gets.
Later,
I spin around, sweating brow
fixing dinner and the house
while you splash in the sink
“washing” your hands, laughing
at your reflection.
Busy me, dizzying “priorities”
‘til tarried by a tug
on my shirt,
enough times for me
to peer down and see
saucer-wide, bright eyes
my wild child
my lightweight, great gravity
ready to play with Mommy.
I often think I ought to soar
out there (or at least
finish these chores)
but you ground me,
literally.
You won’t stop tugging down
on my hand till I’m
on the floor
pretending to be a horse,
then a dog,
then an elephant.
Lately,
I get paid for my imagination
and
chasing dreams is great
except
when I forget
my wildest dream’s
already a reality
standing in front of me,
messy hair
gapped teeth
laughing
ready to be chased.
