Thursday, April 16, 2009

NaPoWriMo 14


Tonight I pray to the god

of small children and broken toys.

Since it seems as though we are made

in Her image, thank you for the tiny curls

in my daughter’s hair. Blessed is She

who holds those galactic swirls close to her beautiful head,

thanks for letting me run my fingers through them

as we read Goodnight Moon at the end of a long, wrecked day.

Thanks for her little hands with chipped nail polish

and the laughter ebbing from her coral lips.

God of the color pink, god of Dora the Explorer,

Thank you for rain as we begin our journey into sleep,

let the sky fall one drop at a time.

That we can find ourselves

in this unearned sweetness,

to the god of small miracles,

I say, Amen.


Catherine said...

What a beautiful tender poem, full of specific detail

January said...

Thanks Catherine! I'm playing catch up with my poems today. Two more to come.

Maya Ganesan said...

Oh, I love the idea of "galactic swirls." Lovely. I nearly cried.

susan said...

Tender is the right word. Your works seems most vulnerable and intimate when you explore your relationship with your children.

Rethabile said...

"Thanks for her little hands with chipped nail polish" --> My 8 year old daughter. Ha ha ha!



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