Life Longs for Itself
Falling snow harmonizes
a child’s sense of wonder
and the parent in me
wants to stop you running barefoot outside,
hands to heaven, twirling,
tongue poised for the sky’s gift
in an ancient celebration of being alive.
Political unrest harmonizes
a child’s sense of justice
and the parent in me
wants to stop you from stumbling blindly into the fray,
slap the slogans from your mouth,
cull from your voice any and all names and opinions
about what is wrong and wicked with this wandering world.
Yes, the parent in me
wants to stop you right where you are
and say some magic words to stop you right where you are,
magic words my own parents taught me but which I counter-spelled with efficiency,
magic words that are worth nothing to any parent ever
except me right here and now
wanting to stop you right where you are,
stop you in time,
just this single time,
stop you in time
to whisper,
“…”