On The Rebound

I never aimed for the ritzy

life, losing my patent leathers

a minute after being shod,

tearing the ruffles and lace

in my haste toward sanctuary

on a dirt trail.  And truly, has there

ever been a properly nourished

three-year-old?  Who can handle

the bundle of curiosity and intelligence,

a running stream along the frozen banks

of parents, worried about some future

peril?   Civilizing the savage —

oh, the strength of that little monster —

with a death grip before the child darts

into traffic.  Channeling all that fear

and pain just here, into these

specific tissues, strapping on the family

baggage.  Seems a surefire way

to dampen this wildness,

but the inflammation will

smolder undetected for decades.

With a grandmother’s eyes,

I see the preoccupied surprise

at the antics of a being

in joy — damn it, bills to pay and photos

to post and likes to count.

I’ve got time to honor every pain

and ache a day with him

exposes, a little girl desperate

for attention, crawling beside him

in my lap, where finally I can give

everything I’ve hoped to receive

from everyone else.

Inspired by:  Ritzy, Baggage, Bundle and Strength.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s