In a moment of slow thoughts and stopped pen, I asked my daughter for 5 random words that I should write about. Her words were: daughter (she first stated “me”), love, cat, friends, happy.
Looking into her blue-green eyes
I see my own, age 7, sweet innocence
of a happy child, playing hopscotch at recess
dancing on the sand, skipping rope with friends
coloring pictures on the sidewalk.
Hugging her tightly in my arms
I feel love radiate warmth between us
a slow, welcome heat
like the soft, fluffy fur of a cat
basking in the sun’s rays.
Copyright Stacie Eirich April 6 2016
Today I return to my home routine of the early morn: preparing my children breakfast, re-checking their school bags, making my coffee and trying to get in a few moments of writing before they wake. Those moments don’t always happen, but when they do, I feel a small success and a lightened heart, somehow forwarding my motion towards that ubiquitous word: achievement. This is a term I think a lot about as a former English teacher and current SAT scorer (don’t ask, I can’t tell) — it’s a word that simultaneously drives me and scares me, a word that I believe both helps and hurts us.
My muse this morning, then, was this sense of achievement, as well as the desire for more. In its wake, I was left with this small poem, and more SATs to score.
Outside my window
flowing with birdsong
sun shining down from
high above after the dawn.
I sit, pencil in hand
in my little shell notebook
of dreams, sipping hazelnut
the beginnings of a new day.
Copyright Stacie Eirich 4/4/16
Perhaps even the smallest moment to do what your heart wants most, shared with no one or anyone you choose, is your achievement. It was mine today — I wish you your own.
Later this week I’ll return with a book review of what I’m reading now, The Moonlit Garden. I’ll also be reading and/or writing a poem a day to celebrate National Poetry Month throughout April. Check out the poetry events available in your area and read a poem a day at www.poets.org