what I’ve been asked to give
I knew it would demand something of me,
but I was not prepared
to deliver
my living mother.
Tag: children
forgiveness
forgiveness
one day after I nick him with the scissors
he says next time his hair is in his eyes
I may try again
I believe in second chances he says
with all the gravity of a 9-year-old
who has come to accept adult failings
what greater gift could there be
from your own child’s lips?
baby toes
baby toes
his toe hurts
on the inside
my insides recoil –
is this it then?
it’s still weeks
(if not months)
til we know
do you remember
those round baby toes
tender as sweet peas?
they’re always on the inside –
my infant sons
embedded in these now lanky
sometimes sullen
more often wise and generous souls
like reverse ancestors
ghosts of their young selves
bound to the present
shades/shadows stitched to their current forms
when they were born
the curious asked
what’s the hardest part?
being so vulnerable
(I always knew)
so many new ways to come to harm –
these beings from my body
out in the sometimes indifferent world
and I so imperfect to guard them well enough
tonight I will pray
for soft pink carefree souls
toes running barefoot tomorrow
dodging disaster
one more day
thank you, Maker Table Makers
thank you, Maker Table Makers
my children make me a picture
of what’s worth protecting
but they miss themselves
moments later there they are
spitting with the effort
required to stay afloat
here I will build
a wall of light around them
a fiery band of love
that they can always call home:
whatever they do is enough
whoever they are, they’re loved
The Bunny Bus
The Bunny Bus
hop on up to the bunny bus
it’s a rainbow-colored ride
come along aboard with us
where everything’s tie-dyed
La-la will be your driver
and Franky’s her best mate
a twitchy nose behind the wheel
will make your vacation great
if you are feeling blue
or the highway’s got you stressed
just give their ears a stroke –
even softer than you’d guessed!
so which way’ll it be, son?
where should La-la head?
Up the hill to Haast?
or was it Wanaka you said?
either way she’s ready
her big hind foot’s a-tapping
and her whiskers are aquiver
(although Franky is still napping)
so wriggle on through
that little bunny door
that your worries just can’t fit through
you won’t need them anymore
‘cause with La-la at the wheel
and some carrots in your pocket
the good vibes are as electric
as your finger in a socket
now New Zealand rolls away
Southern Alps and ocean, too,
and if there’s any problem
it’s that the hours are too few
from one end of the South Island
all the way to the other –
now don’t forget to bring along
your mother, dad, and brother
there’s room for everyone
in this Technicolor dream
and, yum!, Franky’s passing round
scones with Devonshire cream
so come for tea and stay a week
the bunsters wave you in
cause on the rainbow bunny bus
we’re all like long-lost kin
apology
apology
I will build a cloud of calm
a warm nest you can sink down in
a cool pool to plunge into
when your temper’s gone hot
and your eyes flash
and fists clench
and lip curls in a sneer
inside will be the sparkle of stars
and the sleepy sound of cricket calls
the scent of lavender and vanilla
the soft soothe of otter fur
so dense it soaks up
all the loud jagged jabs
your elbows might wish to throw
in the center of this scene
will be my warm tender heart
always open to you
cozy as a little penguin’s jumper
even when you’re on the warpath
over toothpaste shower or parka
it’s not ready yet
but, my big, sweet son,
I’m building it now
space for us both to breathe
