What I learned in (another’s) Kindergarten..

Every afternoon when the littlest schoolchildren line up with their teachers before the waiting ring of parents and grandparents, many more than I are waiting for it.. waiting for Kindergarten Lily who, after she dashes over to her mom/dad, dashes back and — as if made of the most delicate filigree gold — embraces her friend (my granddaughter) in a slow, real hug. Every. Day. It surprised none of us to find out that when granddaughter was down for a few days with side-pain, Lily sat out recess with her — sometimes two. Every. Day.

The look of expectant joy on granddaughter’s face as she waits for Lily to run back to the line.. o, Lord. You have prepared such a world somewhere, right? We all need a Lily.

We are only miles from heartache in any direction. Any. The losses built up until we said, “Enough. Done. Let it be done and over, or let me be done and over.” It has felt that way, hasn’t it?

But… every day at 3, I see this, and I hear it, and I prefer to try one more tomorrow in a belief that too often seems a dream. Don’t cry. Close your eyes, and remember. Remember it. It was and is real.





Reblog (Echoing a widowed, silenced poet)

Poets and Writers reports that “A group of literary journals—including Scoundrel Time, Bat City Review, and Poetry Northwest—have joined together to publish the poetry of Liu Xia, the wife of Liu Xiaobo, a Nobel Peace Prize laureate and Chinese dissident who died on July 13 while in custody of the Chinese government for advancing pro-democracy beliefs. Xia, who […]

via Don’t let the Chinese government erase Liu Xia. Read her poems. — Tribrach: for those who love (or would like to love) poetry