Sunday

Something's coming this way I just know

the way a woman does;

It's leather and metal

Born of my son

of Hawaii

family

and a patience I normally do not possess.

Sick and in bed

I do not lament these passing hours

because in their wake they leave

bits of dreams

colors

and streams of new technique

to ponder:

I am not bored by the quiet

I am lacking for nothing

but instead languishing in a way

that would normally have me tapping my toes for want of action

nails bitten in the stress of hoping it will be as wonderful as its unrealized form

Carrying a babe

is a fierce gift for any artist

in that gestation imparts patience like never before

and creativity

while able to be fostered and led

is also the independent idea coming through the artist

quite like a child does

in its own time

with its own dna

and destination

.

Once my baby was a grain of rice

whose food was a yolk sac

clinging to the wall of my most secret body

now he is a soul I can feel

He is

hands and feet that tell me of waking

and sleeping

dreaming of adventures to come

He is

one of the loves of my life

unmet

but experienced fully

and in his presence I am brave

for love

impervious to slights

better with my heart

clumsy with my hands

.

Something's winding this way

on golden heels

and I am waiting

in folds of cotton

covered in sleeping cats

carrying this babe

and the knowledge that all is well

indeed.

.

.

.

xo

A