“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

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Pleasantly jealous

In the middle of the night 
When time pretends to move
forward half heartedly 
He starts coughing

Like a flash I'm up
Super Dad pushing sleep away
Pretending not to care about
My precious share of reversible mortality

I kiss his slightly salty cheek
And stroke his sore tummy
His sleepy eyes flicker open
As he whispers holding my gaze
'I want mommy'

'Of course' I smile sensibly 
(traitor! I add silently)
And relinquish my privileged spot
For his gentle mother
Who looks effortlessly beautiful 
In her whispery pink fleece jumper 

As those two parts of his whole
Sleep in pleasant company
Super dad is banished 
to the other end of the bed (world)

Where he plots silently in the dark
Against this boy, this son
Who like any other 
Chooses
His mother for comfort
And his father 
For fun

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