Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Rainbow Dreams


The tuck tuck
Typing hands
Worked feverishly
Raced against the time.
She knew the work
Would be but halted
Once he woke up.
But wake up he did
And his morning wail
(The first among
What would be many)
Paused her rhythm.
She scooped him up
In one arm
And continued typing
With the other
While the nursling
Snuggled against her warmth
And fell asleep again.
Her rhythm broke again
Only this time
It was to wonder
What rainbow dreams
Greeted him?

4 comments:

  1. This is beautiful, reminds me of when my son was small, oh so many years ago (he's 17 years now)!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Amanda. Kids will be kids forever to mothers, won't they? I thought of my sister with her two young ones aged 7 and 2 when I wrote this.

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.