Traipsing around the flat
Coffee in hand
I scuff my foot
And set off the trill rattle of a nursery rhyme
contained in the garish plastic of another toy strewn
across the floor
I pause.
I sit down
I have just stumbled across a relatable moment.
I think of all those who have gone before me
Who have negotiated similar territory
I reflect on last night when I watched them sleep
It had occurred to me then
The multitude of mysteries a baby contains
That we all are, ultimately unknown
Despite the thousand intimacies that surrounded us
as we grew
Our parents never fully held the all of us
Or mapped the landscape of our minds
Some secrets remain
Between the smiles and knowing eyes.
Only the source of all knows us inside out
As I gazed upon my child in wonder
And thought how precious
How unutterably precious
I gained a new sense of being held
Of despite my own loneliness
Despite the relentless expeditions into my own brain
Somehow all is contained
Accounted for
And honoured
I have always been deeply known.
Before me now
This fresh being
Holds so much
And is loved beyond my own limitations
A core of love
Bundled up in that soft flesh
Coiled, life sprung and
Still springing forth
Daily
