Saturday, April 9, 2011

Four Twenty-Two

My every day has one minute like this
where I feel the warmth and presence
of these life-changing numbers
and pause the pause of a creator

I might be in a meeting
tapping away on a project
or sneaking a poetry break
but these numbers revisit each day

You, you’re in this moment
held up high
messy and proud
looking every bit a Mackenzie
I knew then a kilt
would suit you just fine

The prayers
don’t we remember the important prayers?
mine was quiet and quick
help me with this one
keep him safe and out of wars
we need all the help we can get
and we can’t do this alone

My every day has one sacred minute like this
where I honor these same frozen numbers
smile the same smile
savor the same high
pray the same prayer
love the same you

[inspired by Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day for Day 9 - Time]


  1. Lovely poem.A warm and tender expression of love for your son..

    Thars theres a faine laird yuuve garrrt therrre Mackenzie. If he writes poems he should get extra pocket money.

    And now I feel I must drop your 'bad boy'soubriquet and never refer to your particular propensities and proclivities for the princess pineapple pantaloon variety of pantoum in various stages of undress again.

    I'm going to have to rearrange my comments accordingly to suit.

    Hope this is enough oxygen for today:)

  2. Self-censoring? We discourage that here & there as well. My brief academic tour through psychology and psychiatry a few years back taught me there's more to each of us than our appearances permit. There's a bad boy, an altar boy, & a lover of tropical fruits still tapping away who'd be crushed if anyone felt compelled to rearrange their thoughts.

  3. Lovely sentiments for your child, JD, being a mother I can completely relate. I am so proud of my girl. I want to thank you for the comment you left on my blog, it was a pleasant surprise. Nice encouraging push:)