Monday, May 4, 2009

Goldilocks Age

Goldilocks Age
My father fell and bumped his head today.
My toddler fell and bumped her head today.
Swine flu is swirling in the air, infectious, contagious…in the news.
So much frenzy going on out there.
So much going on in here.
All the leaves popped on the trees in three days time.
Spring is trying on summer like a pair of ballroom gloves.
I am in the middle place, between too young and too old
--A Goldilocks age, ideal for caring, able and strong.
I reach for my toddler’s hand.
I grab for the phone when it rings.
Have you been here, at this place of letting go and letting go?
Toddler cradles in my lap. I tickle under her chin to inspire a laugh.
Father’s speech is fading, deflecting the hope cancer has conspired.
Outside the air hangs still, holding all possibility, transferring anything.
I wait.
One will grow. One will not.
I am in this middle place, too far from young, not aged enough to be old.
Meet me here and see how I hold my hands out, spread them eagle-like,
As I wait for the wind to move me to let go.
~~~~
I wrote Goldilocks Age this weekend. Go check out Live Beautiful to see what I wrote about laughter and laugh a little! I know I need it.
~ Wendy

6 comments:

  1. *grin*

    Very nice! I love the way you incorporated so many nursery rhymes into this. :D

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  2. What a very beautiful post, and a special, precarious place to be in. You seem to handle it with grace and insight, paralleled with nature. I really enjoyed this piece.

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  3. I'm ever amazed at poets and short story writers - beautiful job, Wendy.

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  4. What a beautiful poem, Wendy! That middle place is often a hard one,isn't it--having both young ones and older ones to take care of? It's amazing to think we were once so young and dependent and will one day return to that state of dependency as we grow old.

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  5. Windsong,
    I liked your *grin*!

    Joanne,
    Very precarious indeed. Thanks for the kind words. I think I wrote it as another way to deal.

    Tess,
    I love writing short stories...not sure I could call myself a poet. I will always just say I love putting words on the page.

    Jody,
    Why hello FB friend...I'll find a way to tell some of those stories soon. Hard, yes. Like I write in my about me description...I'm still trying to figure out this thing called life. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have my faith.

    Thanks for your words, Ladies!

    ~ Wendy

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  6. Wendy, your poem is beautiful. I'm in between also. White hairs? Not possible! But there they are. I guess we can only muddle through each phase with as much grace as we're given each day. Take care.

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