Wake
Last Tuesday was my husband's birthday. I always write a post to dedicate to him. I found this old poem in my journal penned on the last day of Spring break this year that really fits with what I'm feeling these days and I dedicate it to the most amazing man on this planet (in my eyes), Kip Davis! It is an appropriate Thanksgiving post.
Wake
Disheveled hair. Tossed by swirling wind off the bay.
Destiny.
The first boat out of the harbor today.
Surely destiny brought me here
this moment
to inhale the dawn.
Quiet spray kicked off the street below- washing away last night's goings on.
Fresh air. Fresh water.
A fresh wind in my mind.
Wiping away the busy crests of thoughts
a white wake drifting behind.
Erase the days and moments
sitting grading at my desk
worries and hearts of exhaustion
wondering if what I do is best.
So much. So much.
I can check email anywhere.
But I won't. I can't.
This day won't last and my email will keep.
It will still be there - kept by gmail
maybe read by some bored Chinese hacker
with nothing to do.
Sad life. Stuck in a room.
perusing through the lives of others.
I'm at the beach
here alone watching my son swim.
Writing to myself
seeing the joy of him.
Listening to the two overweight sisters sing
'Nothing's gonna change my love for you'
as they text on their cell phones.
People used to bring books to the pool -
now it is the blackberries.
Not me. A paper journal, a pen-
and oh yes - my Kindle -
a cup of coffee.
My cell phone is in my pocket on vibrate
so when my husband calls I'm ready to go -
to drive home.
I will hold onto this day like Jacob on Esau's heel-
storing the wind in my mind -
Clarity is needed to see my life.
"Mom, can you watch me?" my son says.
Yes.
Wake
Disheveled hair. Tossed by swirling wind off the bay.
Destiny.
The first boat out of the harbor today.
Surely destiny brought me here
this moment
to inhale the dawn.
Quiet spray kicked off the street below- washing away last night's goings on.
Fresh air. Fresh water.
A fresh wind in my mind.
Wiping away the busy crests of thoughts
a white wake drifting behind.
Erase the days and moments
sitting grading at my desk
worries and hearts of exhaustion
wondering if what I do is best.
So much. So much.
I can check email anywhere.
But I won't. I can't.
This day won't last and my email will keep.
It will still be there - kept by gmail
maybe read by some bored Chinese hacker
with nothing to do.
Sad life. Stuck in a room.
perusing through the lives of others.
I'm at the beach
here alone watching my son swim.
Writing to myself
seeing the joy of him.
Listening to the two overweight sisters sing
'Nothing's gonna change my love for you'
as they text on their cell phones.
People used to bring books to the pool -
now it is the blackberries.
Not me. A paper journal, a pen-
and oh yes - my Kindle -
a cup of coffee.
My cell phone is in my pocket on vibrate
so when my husband calls I'm ready to go -
to drive home.
I will hold onto this day like Jacob on Esau's heel-
storing the wind in my mind -
Clarity is needed to see my life.
"Mom, can you watch me?" my son says.
Yes.
