art work courtesy of moonpie (our resident artist)today was glorious! one of those days where it is great to be a kid, and even better to be a mom watching your kids revel in the beauty of it all. we played with friends, built forts out of logs, picked wildflowers and enjoyed each other. my mind likes to wander on these days, just like when i was young watching clouds roll by, telling a story only i could hear.
where children live
homes where children live exude a pleasant rumpledness,
like a bed made by a child, or a yard littered with balloons.
to be a child again one would need to shed details
till the heart found itself dressed in the coat with a hood.
now the heart has taken on gloves and mufflers,
the heart never goes outside to find something to "do".
and the house takes on a new face, dignified.
no lost shoes blooming under bushes.
no chipped trucks in the drive.
grown-ups like swings, leafy plants, slow-motion back and forth.
while the yard of a child is strewn with the corpses
of bottle-rockets and whistles,
anything whizzing and spectacular, brilliantly short-lived.
trees in children's yards speak in clearer tongues.
ants have more hope. squirrels dance as well as hide.
the fence has a reason to b there, so children can go in and out.
even when the children are at school, the yards glow
with the leftovers of their affection,
the roots of the tiniest grasses curl toward one another
like secret smiles.
naomi shihab nye
3 comments:
that is a beautiful poem! thank you for it.
today was a lovely day. we should do it more often.
i think that children probably live in tiny houses with miniscule furniture made out of peanut butter and jelly or perhaps, in your daughter's case, seaweed and bananas.
wait, this blog is about debating our theories of the dwelling place of a child no?
Post a Comment