I've found that a fast way to make friends
with children is to let them tackle you.
Several times, I've let one child pull me
down to the carpet and then been attacked
by half a dozen more, each one trying to add
their weight to my chest or, if there isn't room,
to pull my arms and legs up over their heads.
How very few times, at that age, do you get
to reach out your small, smooth arms,
and bring down an adult and push that whole
mass of body you can't imagine inhabiting,
wherever you want it to go.
When you both get up, you don't become the weak
adult the child knows, you are, for a while,
the one who let's her be powerful. The way
no one loves God until he's wrestled him down
and walked away with a broken hip and a blessing.
2 comments:
very good story. followed you from Language Guy's site. the last sentence was interesting...
I grew up under wierd religious circumstances, have been fighting it my whole life.
Have had to put 'GOD' in a place I could handle, mtself.
I'll read some of your poetry :)
I really do like your poems. clarify a solid thing, shift it & move it through perspectives, as the reader follows.
It's how I'd like to paint.
About jazz, haven't figured that out either. I do know it's best heard live. That is where you can best hear & experience the layering of the music. Also sometimes helps to be under the influence if you do that sort of thing.
I have a fiend who plays it all day long as he goes about his day. I get so tired of it.
Classical music I could listen to, all day long, maybe, not Jazz.
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