days turned to mist
I hear the beat of running shoes on the asphalt. The sun dances circles around the earth. The day is running away.
I run after it, hoping to catch it before it is too far gone. A list of tasks tacked up beside my bed gets left behind.
then I stand in front of a crowd of kids, clad in swimming trunks and frilly bikinis, goggles and ear bands. The day is jumping behind them, taunting me. It leaps into the waters. I dive after it. Peering through the water everything thing is blue and blurr. I forget names and loose track of time.
My focus is utterly on catching the day.
The day is nearing an end. The sun has been replaced by the moon.
Driving through the dark and a quick silver truck. Music plays, brother talks, but my mind is occupied, doing somersaults in the cage of my skull.
At home, I return to the list and start to check things off.
Again I’m running. Racing through emails and tidying up from the day that was so lost.
Then she enters my room.
She talks about all the little things of her day. Her voices trails off when I take back to the races. She likes me to listen, to look in her direction. She can sense if you are there, and understanding. So I stop and turn away from my list. Watch her talk about these simple things. How she finds it absurd that girls can make a box into a rocket-ship. Or how she hated the feeling of a strange child toughing her hair. She told me that she loved holding the small hands of baby twins, so simple in their love, just like her. Her eyes don’t focus as she speaks, but they sparkle and glitter like little gems within her softened features.
The day has also stopped to watch her.
Now the house is quiet and think about how important each sleeping body is. How I love each one so much and so separately. I say a small prayer that he keeps them safe and loves then more than My heart can retain, because I know that is an awful lot.
The day settles around me and turns to mist. In the morning it will just be a dewy puddle on my floor.