if I could take today in my arms
bewitchingly like a toddler
to carry it into the future
to the world outside
where I have yet
to go in
perhaps
because as winter
breaths stab restive
I discover... lying here
that I can say love and mean
more than a million different things
Pic: A scoop of snow remains in the bird's nest out front.
Updates: My back is better i.e., back to its customary and manageable amount of pain. I've successfully put away Christmas 2025: tree, decor, outdoor decoration, gift wrap, and all. Hallelujah.
12/30: Changing the last word of line #2 to "toddler" (from "mother") after a genius suggestion from Nance.
12 comments:
I'm glad your back is better. I don't think I knew you had chronic pain. I'm sorry to hear that.
Our tree comes down tomorrow, since we're leaving for Wheeling the day after that.
I am shook by the number of people who have taken their decorations down. But don't you want the twinkle lights?!?!
This poem really touches me. Don't we all have days we would like to hold like that? I'm so glad your back is improving and more manageable. Don't shovel!
I love this poem and the tenderness of the first few lines!!
Our Christmas tree is still up. I think I will leave it up until MLK Jr. Day! I need the light of the tree for as long as possible. Then I will get the house back in order. I will probably put the Christmas picture books away this week because I am burned out on reading them to be honest...
Que bueno que te sientas mejor y que el dolor haya mejorado.
Feliz navidad y año nuevo, que sea un buen año para ti y tu familia.
Blog de Bea- recomendaciones, animes, juegos & más!.
Safe and happy travels, Steph!!
Our tree is fake (kids' allergies) and I after Christmas, I think it looks tawdry. I have other soft, twinkly lights year round...
Thanks, Jeanie. I won't shovel. But your comment reminded me that someone once said that the Temptations Walk is the proper choreography to shoveling right, and I've never forgotten that :)
When I first read this poem, I somehow read "mother" as "toddler"--maybe I was skipping too fast and blended the word "today" and "mother"? And I found the idea of the toddler carrying the day forward into the world, the future, "bewitchingly", incredibly evocative.
Probably some Nana bias working there.
The last two lines are so true, so succinct and yet so weighty.
I guess that shows our current preoccupations, Nance. :)
I LOVE "toddler" instead of "mother" and how that word plays with "today," and "future."
Doing that now and accrediting you for the edit in the update section. Thank you!
Maybe one of my favorite poems you've ever shared
<3
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