“In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no-one sees you, but
sometimes I do, and
that sight becomes this art.”
― Rumi

Saturday, December 24, 2011

an orange ball in the laundry bin
and a green one in my left shoe
a little pink dolphin stuck on my remote
and a blue penguin on the kitchen cupboard

the fridge smiles like a battle scarred veteran
its face pock marked by letters
as if someone splashed
alphabet soup all over it

little giggles in my book case
and impish grins in the wardrobe
my house is invaded by
childhood

and so is my car
with the biscuit crumbs in its
un-hooverable depths
and muddy footprints on the back of my seat

as I clean up the last mess
and wait for the next
I pause to send a grateful thought
to the great beyond
for the irreversible entropy
of parenthood