Vol 12, Num 5 :: 2013.03.01 — 2013.03.14
Stories
My children,
come and play with me,
our imaginations
like two spirits
with a generation between,
transparent
so we can place them over
each other
and see the same
characters
feel the same
stab of insight and recognition
Like a time warp
Shadows of each other’s interests
separated by wrinkles and toys.
You play now
lining up the toys
giving them high squealed voices
mimicking life around you,
allowing mystery to bridge unreality.
My boy,
you have gathered
words for four years,
applying its rules
ignoring exceptions,
My girl,
you are only half full
of words right now in your two years of life,
filling in the gaps with nonsense and
dramatic hand gestures.
My third,
you only know the reverberations of words
hearing echoes of my voice and the voices of your
father, sister, and brother
through the thick wall of my bulging stomach.
You children light up when I get down and play,
but calcification of my imagination
subtly takes over the risks of your unbridled imagination,
and I am stunted,
while you can still soar.
A hope: I lie awake willing myself to sleep unsuccessfully,
and so scan my world for a crack,
a crack through which I can see
my worlds I created years ago,
the castles,
clouds,
forests,
creatures,
dangers,
safe and protected in my sheets,
my flying bed…
My boy comes to me,
also unable to sleep,
afraid
of shadows
so I tuck him in
and teach him of his magical bed
and we apply the force field
And he is safe,
smiling
and drowsy.
Some day you will be older;
Your dreams and colors of hope and imagination
will become too stifled and flat, dulled
by routines and expectations.
But my wish is that
you always allow mystery
to tickle your soul.
It explains it all
without words.
My body can’t play on the ground
easily anymore,
but my mind’s eye is always exploring with you
Stories.
Our permanent common playground,
no matter how old we get,
when my patience and interest runs dry too quickly.
We play together every night,
exploring worlds
and creatures
tension
and
relief,
enjoying the colors,
the shapes,
drawn to the images
ideas
mysteries
life.
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