2/11

this chord that connects us. love in the air the small intimacies of the moment. there is the children in innocent dress there is the messes they make and there is us. we two. the face of the past. ah, we the history who speak through the bridge of whats to come. seconds are spent parenting our life away.

there are great joys here. there are things that cause tears i have never felt here. there is the laughter and celebration of recognized firsts here. then there is the animal. i the head turner, the lost to wage earner, the street walker, thinker and day dreamer.

now there is you. the mother the stay home teacher. the great patience, the hope, the heart of our home.

what we have now is the present. what we have to the linoleum floors, the encroaching walls. what we have now is the reflection on whats known and the wonder of whats to come. the moment is alive undefinable constantly leaving messy trails across the floor boards of our lives.

the present, to be here. the present, the gift of now. love lover loving loved oh we two spend our eyes only on each other's faces then whats this about a past. oh love lover loving who i will joy eternity with then whats this about what we use to do? whats this over my shoulder, over your shoulder whats this in your dreams when we both agree that to each it should be about the other's me me ME.

we gather our children. we ask of their day. we ask each other to translate what the each child says and hum the song to curious george.

we wonder if the gardener still remembers the soil as fondly when the garden blooms. we wonder does the driver remember the car when safely home. we wonder does the writer remember the first novel when they are off to number 2. mostly we wonder how in all this we of family will there be memories of me and you.

tender are the mercies of the night, when tucked to sleep we find ourselves alone. tender is the silence between us, the spaces between yawns and the inches between skin. where once is was the fire of whats to come now is the quiet of what is. where once there was the reach to touch skin to find constant tinder, fire and sex now gone quiet to the aches of workaday pain. where once there was the fury of consumption there is slow tempered art the steady hand of experience.

what we have here is a fight. this mind is one to burn and holler. this mind is one to gluttony. this mind is one to indian yelp and the wolf man's howl. the actor playing your hero is too slow. his hand too controlled. the hero himself a mess he walks with a slight drool hungry for whatever is going on. he is hungry to the pissing seconds.

you have got to find a balance. x2

i don't want to comb my hair. let it it stand or fall on it's own merit, grow wild like the idaho i remember. there were ducks there that tried to eat my toes. there was the echo of the empty suburban streets. there was the dirt road before fred meyer came. there was the sweet cherub face flushed from the excitement of love's first churning.

you see, you see i want for my children that madness. the excitement of spinning circles and chasing ghosts on table top rock. you see, you see i don't want to lose that in me. i want to consume my wife every time. want to holler and chew her hair. want to dance on a plain wedensday atop the building off st. claire. you see life is not whats to come. is not always saying no or be careful.

i got to be careful about all this, right? i got to slow it down and study the trail cause it's not just me anymore. one could think this but in my heart there comes the tremor that says, 'what about their faith?' if they believe they will come, their faith will set them free. if you got somebody and that person always talking risk or fear then don't you need to stop. shouldn't you think to yourself, 'they believe so little in me, in the joy of what is and excitement of what's to come that they fear? that they doubt? then what the hell are they going to do when times are hard, when it's do or die and they have to follow?'

it's okay to have questions about your faith, it's blasphemous to have those questions of god. it's okay to have those questions about your ability, it's destructive to have those questions about your partner.

so where do we go? there is this ridge, there is the moonlight and a clear sky. there is the burgeoning springtime and the children are asleep. where do we go? shall we stay for the night, stare out at the horizon line in reflection? shall we keep moving a child in each our arms, and head straightaway to the future?

i look over and see her asleep. i look over and memorize the moonlight tracing her skin, highlighting her lips and eye lashes. the moonlight tracing her lean athletic frame, as she holds our baby. i sigh, and look out imagine the chill in tomorrow's morning.

got to be patient, but not too patient. careful but not too careful. let's see where it takes us.