We are summoned to wakefulness
thru layers of sleep debris
in this place that is not
home.
We rise laughing
together,
we adults
born of those wounded children
Capturing innocence
with flying pillows
that was not ours
as children
but that comes to us now
like a tame deer beckoned
He knows the places where I
have been broken
without my having to tell him.
Having stood witness
to their creation
his sighs in synchrony with mine
for what we lost.
Yet we laugh now like
the children we never were then
and shared joy is the best gift of the day.
This is beautiful; a very tender tribute. I hope it is just Day 1 of many days of shared joy throughout this next decade!
ReplyDeleteHappy 50th, Mary!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
ReplyDeleteAnd Happy Day After! xoxox
ReplyDelete