Posts Tagged ‘love’

signs for healing, signs of hope: women’s march L.A.

January 22, 2017

 

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fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 5

July 6, 2015

yesterday i looked up
i looked up and saw
that you were no longer my baby
i looked up and saw
that you had become my son

a year has passed,
more,
since you came to be
since we began the slow journey
toward knowing one another
life has come back to reclaim me
a jealous sibling
constantly competing for my time
it builds a wall between me
and the immediateness of our early days
with brick after brick of have-to’s
and i find myself asking:
what were you like back then?
were you really ever so small?

all i have left is a string of vignettes
soft-spun memories of our beginnings
of your tiniest self
golden
and delicate
and fragile to the touch:

the sparrow’s ribs beneath the surface of your torso;
the kiss-kiss purse of your tiny mouth;
the downy pillow of your cheeks;
the push and pull of your parenthetical little feet;
the gentle puff of your breath against my neck;
the soft lisp of your first whispers;
your toothless grin;
your wonder-filled eyes;
the feel of your dimpled fist against my chest;
the weight of your head in the hollow of my arm;
the unruly wisps of your gossamer hair,
standing up like a feather in your cap.

precious (few) details,
let me wear them around the neck of my soul
gather them in the palm of my heart
tattoo them to my mind’s eye
so that I may never forget
the magic of the days
when I was steeped in you.

– a.
july 6, 2015

Wyatt

fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 2

July 8, 2014

i’ve come to love the afternoon with you

that softly rounded peak of our budding daily rhythm

it emerges each day from the dull haze of morning

and floats aloft the often jagged edges of the evening hours

suspended time, it seems

defined by the slow shift of sunlight and shadow

against the living room curtains

a safe space for magical moments

and unexpected gifts

like those few precious hours just days ago

when you, my little jumping bean,

my little guppie always in motion,

grew quiet

and dreamy

and, nestling your head against my shoulder,

decided inexplicably —

deliciously —

to rest

your tiny body slumped against mine

wanting nothing

and giving everything

a fleeting eternity of utter surrender and perfect bliss

and i thought:

this is the stuff of true wonder

this, right here, is what will carry you through

– a.

july 8, 2014

the early days: an album

July 3, 2014

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fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 1

June 9, 2014

remember tonight:

standing on the stoop

just before sundown

bare feet on cool concrete

slight toussle of the evening breeze

whispering of summer

and the stillness

that wrapped the neighborhood

suddenly

blessedly

leaving just you two,

you and your infant son,

to hear the birds in their bedtime banter

and see the sunset suspended

in the shatter of water droplets

dangling like forgotten diamonds

from the bouganvilla

the gentle sway of your dance together

the impossible softness of his arm

and the bare blue of sky

reflected in his eyes

just you two

alone in the universe

of small blessings

– a.

8th of june, 2014

blessing #1: love

July 1, 2013

i have love in my life in many different forms. this particular little morsel came from a friend i adore, who (lucky for me) seems to share my sentiments.

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homework

February 13, 2013

“a human being is part of a whole, called by us the ‘Universe,’ a part limited in time and space. he experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. this delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

– Albert Einstein

happy friday

December 2, 2011

small miracles

November 16, 2010

while in the kitchen cleaning up tonight, my eyes trailed over a lone coffee cup that my husband had left sitting in the sink. upon closer inspection, i discovered that a small miracle had settled at the bottom of it:

if you ask me, that’s one crafty way to get out of doing the dishes.

a gift

August 16, 2010

(embedding ain’t working – click to watch)