The Lifecycles of Love
The morning stroll with the child in red jogger
shakes with water forced from sprinklers.
We walk on and our son, who has your strawberry
tinged hair, squeals about the red toy car
he imagines large. The roads teem with garage
sale traffic. People looking to buy a deal and others
selling for space. We continue on the sidewalk.
We mixed our genes into the boy that points
the motorcycle passing with grak, grak, grak.
We nail our selves to lack of sleep and explaining
the world to a growing boy. And yet, love
expressed in gratitude gives life to our morning.
Memory invades. Last spring, we visited a elderly couple
dying, he of cancer, and she of parkinson’s disease
and now a broken heart. He went ahead, as most men.
The day of the visit, and our soon to be two year old
dances and sings ba ba black sheep...one for the boy
who lives down the lane. Lace and I pray for healing,
for gratitude, for love they kept until the end.
The grafting of lives together diverts bees
to a fruit becoming flower. Then we continue walking
in the direction of home.