I wrote this poem yesterday. It reminded me of why I love being a mother.
Goodnight Stars
When you wake up you don't know
Which days are diamonds and which are stones
One diamond day I just came home from working
And my son was still up, and I got to read him "Goodnight Moon"
He was about two years old at the time and ablaze with life and wonder
The book got me thinking, "Good night stars."
I scooped him up in his p.j.'s and ran him out to the backyard.
It was a perfectly clear, brilliant night for stars.
This was early in the summer and it was warm.
I held him tight against my chest and pointed to the sky,
"Stars" I showed him with my heart full of love.
He grinned from one ear to the other, "Stars" he repeated.
Then he laughed from the pure joy of it--in absolute awe.
He totally got it and let those stars shine into his world, his life.
He laughed some more at the pure ecstasy of the experience.
I could only grin at how eager he was to let in more life, more beauty, more love.
I wanted right that minute to take him across the country and show him an ocean.
Or wait up all night and watch his face as he thrilled to his first sunrise.
Where was a bird's nest full of baby birds he had never before seen?
Why couldn't it be winter and I could take him to see the frozen waves of Lake Michigan?
The Grand Canyon would just have to wait, along with telescopic views of planets.
Goodnight world everywhere full of countless wonders for a rich mother to give.
Goodnight stars.
This is the authentic voice of an old woman who hopes she has learned some things to share. It is about transformation. It is becoming our true selves. It is finally about returning to Oneness. It is also about writing and recovery.
I wrote this poem yesterday. It reminded me of why I love being a mother.
Goodnight Stars
When you wake up you don't know
Which days are diamonds and which are stones
One diamond day I just came home from working
And my son was still up, and I got to read him "Goodnight Moon"
He was about two years old at the time and ablaze with life and wonder
The book got me thinking, "Good night stars."
I scooped him up in his p.j.'s and ran him out to the backyard.
It was a perfectly clear, brilliant night for stars.
This was early in the summer and it was warm.
I held him tight against my chest and pointed to the sky,
"Stars" I showed him with my heart full of love.
He grinned from one ear to the other, "Stars" he repeated.
Then he laughed from the pure joy of it--in absolute awe.
He totally got it and let those stars shine into his world, his life.
He laughed some more at the pure ecstasy of the experience.
I could only grin at how eager he was to let in more life, more beauty, more love.
I wanted right that minute to take him across the country and show him an ocean.
Or wait up all night and watch his face as he thrilled to his first sunrise.
Where was a bird's nest full of baby birds he had never before seen?
Why couldn't it be winter and I could take him to see the frozen waves of Lake Michigan?
The Grand Canyon would just have to wait, along with telescopic views of planets.
Goodnight world everywhere full of countless wonders for a rich mother to give.
Goodnight stars.
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