Monday, September 22, 2014

Bare-foot in the Kitchen

I am flecked with the juice of pomegranates,
Bare-footed and listening to the poetry of ages
Read by men I will never meet.

This day is a clear one,
To my mind and my eyes.
I see so much today and I am happy.

I am grateful for the gift of rare days.
Peace is so flitting in these chaos times,
But I pad the nest anyway.

Strings and cloth scraps here.
This side needs extra down.
I cover the sharp sticks of life.

There are still years before I will launch them
As a mother eagle with her young.
They will soar higher than I, I tell my heart.

Today, it has been time and sight.
An eagle's sharp vision, by heaven, has been the gift
And my arms will, cradling, enfold it.


  1. Love that first stanza - sounds ideal, really. "This day" is really cool, a clear insight that not every day is so blessed. A mother has so many fears and yearnings… just a sweet potpourri of a poem.

  2. "I am grateful for the gift of rare days"...I love this line...

  3. covering the sharp sticks of life . . . isn't that the truth.

  4. So beautifully pensive, I found this poem to be very uplifting.