Someday
there will be
dream stuff here.
An old tree,
an austerity of stone,
and mothers walking
in the morning
remembering children.
The shy laughter of boys
the beauty of girls,
their sons and daughters.
A parallel world of the heart,
where everything came
to place
with clarity and joy.
I saw their art work
fashioned with tender concern.
The quicksilver of eyes
as children recited their poems,
as kindergarten drew
to a close.
We looked on our children
with awe,
How fast this year had gone!
How much had passed
and something else
placed in our arms.
The children circled their teacher
like a fountain of flowers,
a frame for her soul.
An epiphany happened.
How wide the summer is!
The challenge of a year.
Mothers hold the pieces
of their hearts together.
Fathers applaud,
life goes on.