Tag Archives: child

beauty without limits

21 Apr

I am participating in the Health Activist Writers Month Challenge, in which I publish a post every day for the month of April, based on health-related prompts.

April 21 – Health madlib poem: Go to http://www.languageisavirus.com/cgi-bin/madlibs.pl and fill in the parts of speech and the site will generate a poem for you. Feel free to post the Madlib or edit it to make it better.

When I read this prompt, I thought it would be easy. It turned out to be a lot more challenging than I had expected. The Madlib gave me a poem that was beautiful in some parts, nonsensical in others. I had to throw out the first couple of attempts, and I finally got something that I could edit into something I could like. As tough as this exercise was, it was a lot of fun. Everyone should give it a try!

quietly i have never run, softly beyond my heart
my son, your smile is full of love
in your most happy tears are things which surprise me,
on which i cannot speak because they are too deep

your beautiful look profoundly will move me
though i have tried to understand
you see things in ways that are beyond me
exploring your world thoughtfully, intensely

your potential reaches the stars and sun
i move my world for you so that you may fly
i cross the ocean for you to know no limits
your path is different and the road is challenging

nothing gets in the way of your growth
the strength of your shy wonder: my child
i smile at the beauty of your blond hair
your blue eyes bright and sparkling with life

i would run to the ends of the world for you
so the world can be yours
you are amazing: son, brother, friend
your heart is pure, your smile lights up the sky

By Kirsten Doyle with a little help from e.e. cummings

Advertisements

Stopping To Smell The Roses

30 Aug

Look what I have...

For a number of reasons, I find my morning commute to be far more palatable than the afternoon commute. I rarely wait more than three minutes for a bus to the subway station. Because I board the subway at the end of the line, I always get a seat. The morning commute is faster and generally more pleasant – or at least, less unpleasant.

In the afternoon, I am tired and cranky, and my head is full of work-related stress. I am forced to squeeze myself onto an already jam-packed subway train, and when I emerge at my destination, I have to spend seventeen geological eras waiting for a bus home. Because my chances of getting a seat on either the subway or the bus are less than my chances of being ordained as the Pope, my afternoon commute involves me being on my feet for well over an hour.

By the time I got onto the bus yesterday, I was dying of thirst and my head was pounding. I stood there on the bus, one squashed sardine among many, feeling hot and grumpy. I never regard my commutes as fun, but yesterday, I was even more fed up than usual. I stared at the floor for the entire thirty minute bus ride just to avoid accidentally catching anyone’s eye. That’s how much of a mood I was in.

As the bus pulled up to my stop, I breathed a sigh of relief at having made it home while simultaneously lamenting the fact that my evenings are always filled with chores and running around after people.

Yes, I was feeling pathetic and sorry for myself. I admit it.

But then… something amazing happened.

As I stepped off the bus, I saw my husband and my younger son James sitting on the grass near the bus stop. Thinking I was seeing a mirage, I rubbed my eyes.

James jumped up and yelled, “Mommy!” The sun shone on his curly blond hair and illuminated his entire being. I swear, the kid looked like an angel – a glorious shining light that swept away every ounce of negativity in me. He ran towards me with his hands behind his back. The smile on his face as he reached me could have split his face in two as he pulled his hands from behind his back and thrust a bunch of red roses at me.

I spent a few minutes sitting there on the grass with my husband and my son, basking in the sense of love and belonging, and literally stopping to smell the roses.

I think I will regard my afternoon commutes with a lot less angst from now on. Because look at what I have waiting for me at the other end.

(Photo credit to the author.)