The
end of Spring Break and a week past Easter, I find myself in between longing
for what was and what is. Also spending all day with my son’s hair whipped in
my face made me think about his new motto of “I’m never cutting my hair again”
and what that might really mean for his future and mine.
Peaceful
Shores
Peace
be with you
And
go before you
And
be behind you
In
all that you do
“How is standing up to my knees
In
troubled water peaceful?” I question.
“But
it is only to your knees”
It
could recede,”
I
hear him say.
“It
could rise!”
“And
then where would I be?”
“You
can swim?”
“Yes,
but if there is no land?”
He
smiles, “Yes, what then?”
“I
cry for help?”
“Yes,
peace to keep swimming,
Though
you don’t see the shore,
It
is there.”
My
Little Samson (Hairbear)
I
can’t see your face
For
the veil you have grown
That
hides your thoughts
While
you are at home
It
covers you as you tilt away
Spinning
round an orbit
You
rocket out of sight
Beneath
that hair
To
shelter your flights
Of
fancy and foreign exploring
It
is me you are ignoring
Finding
a new curious corner
That
I am not privy to
You
find it a way
To
control your gaze
Peeking
out with one eye
Seeing
if I’m watching
What
you do
It
is like a reflector shield up
And
I can’t see through it
I
tell myself this too is a phase
And
I hope won’t get too much praise
Because
then you will pursue it
As
a lifelong thing
That
could sting
Your
hair is beautiful
Take
care of it
So
it won’t look pitiful
When
I am gone
Maybe
it will keep you strong
As
you curtain away your thoughts
From
others that aren’t your Mom
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