Confluent
Category: Eve Moore
Confluent
My child had a meltdown today.
No kicking and screaming,
just a burble of tears
that seemed to
beat the air
like a deer
fly in the
damp
violet
rise of
day.
She wanted
attention.
She is three and
not yet conversant
in the ways of the
adult’s swallowing of
unpleasantness.
Attention is not
the thing we give
to the pleading
of overwhelm,
we’ve learned
the hard way.
Suddenly, I felt
the hardness
of this way.
And instead of deflecting
her torrent, like so many rivers,
dammed, diverted, managed, saying,
effectively, ’not this way,’ I turned
to her, gentleness overwhelming
the adroit waywardness I
confronted, and asked
why are you crying?
Not why
are you
crying.
…why?
All I could make out
was the crushed velvet,
the delicate torn
embroidery
of her sorrow.
Mind you, she’s three.
Wise and essentially unintelligible,
if functionally foreign
of tongue.
So she drew me a picture.
It was a familiar scene.
Its palette nearly
monochrome,
lines thick
with lead.
Its subject
inscrutable.
When I asked
where does it hurt,
she pointed: here
a sweeping gesture encompassing the world
around her.
Us.
I understood.
I cried, too.
And then I
remembered
to breathe.
As I did, she did.
Together we took in
the stuff of life.
And slowly, as we
watched each other
rise and fall with its soft
slaking, pouring, we
stilled.
Smiles crept
over the storm-swept smear
of our faces.
Neither of us knew
that neither of us
was alone. Not
entirely.
People always say
she has her father’s eyes:
highland lochs of blue,
cornflowers at
gloaming.
But they’re my eyes.
My eyes.
For she is not
the child I’ve held
within me,
she’s the child I hold
within me.
∞/∞
Eve Moore ©2021
© Photo: Eve Moore
Eve Moore: Once a professional writer of advertising, I saw the light & it has shown me words of a different nature. And so I take them down & offer them up. And all is well.
For more of Eve Moore's amazing and heart centered poetry and writings, click here!
http://www.crystalwind.ca/eve-moore
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
—Jimi Hendrix
This poem/prose was submitted exclusively to CrystalWind.ca by Eve Moore.
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