The day drips like the leaking of a faucet.
Falling flakes out the window offer
happiness to my tired, hurting heart.
It’s white outside. The snow sticks.
Jackson plays with toy trucks,
He laughs when one falls in the flower pot.
Jonah watches Jackson. He coos.
I brew a cup of chicory.
The day drips on.
Flakes still falling…
Wishing the day would fall just as fast.
I should make dinner.
Hearing babes in the background while stove top burns.
Husband comes home, tired but helps.
We eat together, we talk together.
The day drips on.
I nurse.
Jonah sleeps sweet now.
Hear laughing, splashing in the bath.
Jackson soon to close his eyes.
The night keeps its constant drip.
“Knock, knock”
It’s May May.
A ten year old boy steps,
Into this dripping day.
Wet from flakes yet full of brightness
He’s outside? At this hour? Alone?
I think to myself.
"Stay here for awhile, I’ll make you coco."
His favorite.
He smiles and takes comfort inside.
He smiles and takes comfort inside.
The night still doing its drip, drip, drip.
But it’s this dripping at this hour,
I find...
Even the dripping days are set for purpose.
©Emily Murphy – Reflections from White Rock
Feb. 11th 2010
Feb. 11th 2010
“My heart overflows with a pleasing theme;
I address my verses to the King;
my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.”
Pslam 45:1
An extraordinary gift of an ordinary mom! Your mommi loves you to the moon and back. You amaze me with your photography and gifted words. Keep it going!
ReplyDeletemommi
Thank you Mom! I love you back :)
ReplyDelete