As I sit, tired, my eyes are blinking over the strawberry-washed memories of the day with Juliet.
Touching a sweet small hand, that is silken and tea-warm, reminds me of the existence of life's sweet tiny joys -
And massive, sloping futures.
Juliet, in one perfect moment in chaos - an eclipse of the feelings of swooping, wingswept, and also sitting still.
She is a tiny, self-contained intricately-woven basket, capturing and enrapturing us in the reasons why we live.
Holding a new baby, soft as a sack of sandman's warm night-giving dust.
A feeling such as that resonates like deep sea booming song through the holder's torso.
Feeling a locket-sized heartsnap beautifully beating shocks sunshade-perfumed air into my lungs -
For the first time in centuries, Juliet has made me feel alive.
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1 comment:
I'm going to print this and put it in her baby book with her letter. She's a lucky girl to have you in her life. Thank you for everything, always.
love and hugs,
Charlotte : )
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