My Children With Their Beautiful Eyes

My Children With Their Beautiful Eyes

Our inner transparencies are colored by life.
The world is big and always hungry.
Sand, clay, and thorns stick.
Many men live on the whim of an upgrade.
Many women look the other way.
Having said that, I must say this.
There is no need to sit motionless.
A thousand stars live above the world.
A thousand worlds above the stars.
There are broad, sunny roads
that remain free of shadows
all of their days.
Are they happy that way?
Some shadows are no more than shade.
My mother cannot reach her back.
I soap it into a lather.
This is an important matter.
I do not have secret advice.
I do not have an unfulfilled life.
I fall open like a fruit and love you.
You bring the flowers of your fire to stoke me.
Each time I see you is the first time.
My blue brook and autumn leaf,
you are the best of my spring trees.
I hail the heart of brandy, that burns a strong soul.
Sharp and honorable on a winter's day.
I keep a meadow of deep roots
where I smile and praise.
You are the sweet feed, the clover made.

Reviews

[Emily B]

This is the sort of thing I ought to print out and pin up next to the mirror in the bathroom. So that each morning as my face resembles more and more those of my mother and grandmother I might read your wise words and remember my children with their beautiful eyes. Already they are historians and teachers and archaeologists. They are cooks and farmhands and explorers. Every day brings some new adventure. You make it easy to see ourselves in your words. Thank you for that.

[Ed Hart]

"I fall open like a fruit and love you."