Wrestling with the Remote Control

Since the baby came certain things are on pause—

it’s hard to find time to write, to think,

to grieve, to pray

except through my body as I rock and sway,

rock and sway my little one to sleep.

Other things are going fast-forward—

there’s no stopping kids growing,

squabbling, questioning everything

and making messes everywhere I look.

In the anxious moments of early morning,

my mind tries to rewind,

to second-guess and over-analyze

but there’s no going back.

What I’m forgetting

as I grasp for control

and it slips like sand though my fingers

is the one button I need to press:

Play.

Play right now, as things are

in the mess and chaos of my 8 kids

doing silly dances and laughing,

finding a moment of togetherness.

Be right now—

allow myself to have a moment alone

walking under the cherry blossoms—

stopping to listen to the hummingbird

who sings above me

pointing it’s tiny beak heavenward,

little messenger of my Dad.

Embrace right now with its little inspirations to

to snuggle my down-soft baby

and write an imperfect poem,

unpausing my frozen voice which felt

unable to speak

unworthy of being heard

afraid to crack open bitter walls of strength

and cry.

Just press play.

5 thoughts on “Wrestling with the Remote Control

  1. Wave

    Full pink super moon sure brings out intense emotions, letting a few tears run out helps release the pressure , so much unknowns during this world wide time of emergencies and change. The beauty of the blossoms and the chirping of the birds , like clockwork, in the early morning, helps us feel some stability in their constancy of praise for the morning light.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for your thoughtful and poetic comments! ☀️ I like “their contacts of praise for the morning light.” Makes me think of the Cat Stevens song “Morning has broken, like the first morning; black bird has spoken, like the first bird, praise for the morning!”

      Like

    2. Claire

      Again, beautiful thoughts Anna. The baby you hold is a little capsule of normality. It’s funny when one thinks of this. How such a tiny being can be our reference point to our judging what is normal today. The chaos around us means nothing if we hold to what is important. And you hold exactly that.

      Liked by 1 person

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