January 28, 2006

• A Glimpse

  
  

  We are driving down the highway, my husband at the wheel and our babes in the back. And I am sleeping. I sleep because our baby girl has been up teething and wrestling demons in her dreams and I am tired. “I don’t mind driving” he tells me, “you go ahead and rest”. So I do; I sleep the sleep of a thousand drowsy felines,  I curl around myself and I am content.

  
  

  But something rouses me, a memory perhaps, or a task that needs tending to. And as the world streams into my consciousness I hear the sounds of my husband singing with our children and they are all laughing and it is so lovely. And I am so full of this ever-expanding love that I am certain I will burst.

  
  

  “Oh, Look” my husband says to them, “Look at the beautiful birds”

  
  

  

  
  

  “I am a bird, I am a bird, TOO”, my two year old laughs “I want to fly for REAL!“, my six year old shouts,and my husband replies, “We all have ways of flying,  pumpkins.”

  
  

  

  
  

  And I know just what he means.

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  “Hope is the thing with feathers
  That perches in the soul.
  And sings the tune
  Without the words,
  and never stops at all.”

  
  

  
  

  ~Emily Dickinson

  • 10:33 pm
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