Creative Practice: Between Generations (sonnet)
Day 14 of 31 - getting them written as I can
The baby sleeps in my lap as I write on my phone
A milky trail by her mouth; my days are filled
With Eric Carle books and a rainbow xylophone,
Vacuuming up rice, wiping paint water spilled
On the laminate floor. This is my dream come true,
The endless loads of laundry a side effect
Of tiny bodies living life. I prayed for two
and now hope and reality intersect:
Each day I thank God for giving me the gift
Of my children. Each day I mop and sweep and change
The necessary diapers. Each day becomes part shift,
Part meditation, the interchange
Of love between generations, the score
Being settled with tikkun o’lam, l’dor vador.
