There is this thought
that the more we wake up
the more joy infiltrates
the more bliss dominates
but how am I to believe this?
I eat
my dinner
and watch
my family
laugh, and drink
and make silly jokes
and I feel how much I love them, how much I fear this moment
to change
so it's easier to block it out, find something wrong
than to let my heart swell and break with the truth
that the love in this moment of laughter and health
is more than my little heart can hold
or my eyes can see
and so they fill
with tears
of discomfort
of fear
that this moment will pass today
or someday forever
be gone
from my lense
my glove
my table.
My children
chubby-cheeked, sweet eyed and sassy
My husband, strong and willed, optimistic
my skin clothed and hearth warm
that the need in my belly, should it not be filled
with this I could die
loveless, empty
void of blessing or luck
or worse
robbed of what beauty had given me so generously
right now in this moment
as they laugh and eat
my attachment grips me
tight
and I run
to the bathroom where mirrors are small
enough to avoid
and far where small sounds of weeping cannot
be heard and the cloth
of tissues can sweep away the open wounds of my strangling love
dumping me in the lap of the moment
revealing pain as truth and love
as duality. Moment as short.
Children as miracle. Husband mortal. Self;
permeable.