Finding Myself
In
The Quiet
After
Strained-long
Weeks
of
Illness.

Can I find
That
Quiet
Space
Again
That
Has been so scattered cluttered
Full.

I hear
Little Boy-
He says,
“You’re not alone Abi. God is with you.”
He comforts- as he is let off the sick couch
And she
Is left
Alone. He is already thinking-
Before she even cries-
Before she even realizes-
He is offering his thoughts
And
Comforting.

Later he says,
“Mom, I want to see inside my stomach. What it looks like? I want
to see how God made it and how the food goes down and then comes out.”
Yes, this is the one who said,
“God is in the toilet paper.”
Big thoughts found in
The earthiness
Of
Life.

I nestle- sweat tossed sick baby against my pillow
And hunker down
Side by side
In the bed.
He leans over and pats my shoulder,
“I love you, Mom.” Says he-my two year verbal wonder.

My funny one, he cracks a joke. I laugh.
He says, “What’s another name for a horse fly?”
I say, “Huh?”
He says, “ a Pegasus.” And grins and he made it up all by himself.

My tall one, tapes up his chore list, plugs in the MP3 player- and then-
Suddenly- I look- I see…
There he is, focused, working down that list and all around him
He has created
Order. Is this fruit? I taste it. It is good.
I think-
Maybe, maybe one day- they will all work hard like this.
I look around at the younger ones. It took the Tall One ten years
To get to this place.
I wait- patient. Patient.
Ten years or so…
A team to clean the house in a morning
And afternoons to find some joy together.

My little boy, he ponders slow, he ponders long-
And I am hurrying, hurry.
I miss him as I rush. I miss him
In the rush.
I want an unhurried quiet
Day
Where
I can listen
And he
Can sit
In that sweet, melting
Way
With me.

My strong one manned the two remotes
On two longs day of illness.
He had it all
Under control.

We shake house from top
To bottom
To clean
Away
The dirt
From weeks of illness
And
The start of school.

I hope.
I hope to be back here
More.
And Soon.