Bodies of Water

The trees are so stable,

their moods have such endurance.

They hold on for months

to the bare bitterness of winter,

the silence,

the absence of even a rustling leaf.

Then the trees embrace the sweet joyfulness of spring

in a long coquettish smile,

a blossom-blush lasting months.

Afterwards, the trees sail into the smooth serenity of summer,

wearing their regal wreaths with proud satisfaction.

Even the flaming, flickering colours of fall flash across their faces for months,

the trees, with their moods more stable than mine,

for I am but a tiny body of water

wrapped in skin.

My thinly guarded surface subject to tremors of wind,

the harassment of a sudden hailstorm

or the steady pounding of rain.

I’ve been know to get icicles in my eyelashes

tears of pain frozen before fully released.

Some things are better to let go of quickly.

In all this variable moodiness,

this passionate intensity and depth of feeling,

I am not alone,

for are we not all but small bodies of water

(97% H2O)

wrapped in skin,

the tides in our hearts tugged about by not just the moon,

but by the moods of all the other bodies of water

bumping around us

in this space

that is earth.

Crimson and Gold

I continue to be enchanted by the beauty of fall..which this year has had a slow mellow warmth, like the flickering of a cosy fire, flames all crimson and gold. 

   

    
   
My kids, who had been peacefully playing inside, were very happy to discover where Mummy had snuck off to for a few quiet moments of photography! Pretty fun that even though I’m with them all the time, after 3 minutes away, I get greeted like a rock star! 😉

  

Sunning the Moon Belly

  

after a morning of spelling 
nursery rhymes
and writing practice
I take a moment’s break by myself
to sit on our garden bench in the sun

a tiny homeschool hiatus 
to sit quietly enough to hear 
the birds chirping and twittering
over the background hum
of city busses and summery lawnmowers
on this warm October morning

sun is supposed to be good
for this third trimester liver thing 
that has crept up on me again
so I expose my round belly
to glow like strange moon
blue veins faintly showing
in the bright sun

a small alien planet 
with the occasional surface ripple 
as the life within stretches and grows
just x-filish enough
to make me grin

Song of the Purple Plum

  
Fall is coming.

The leaves blush crimson

and purple plums swell;

their dark bloom 

splits open sweet flesh 

and reveals the kernel of new life inside.

And so my round belly will 

swell, blossom, bloom

and I’ll split open 

revealing the flesh of my flesh

bone of my bone

seed of my hope

fruit of my love…

And from my fragile flesh—

my heart split open—

the seed of new life be nourished

and a new tree will grow.