Breathless

I don’t know if
            Breathless
Is a good thing or
            A bad thing
While rushing here
            And there
Late for work or
            Picking up the kids . . . .
I’m breathless.

 

Late at night I worry
            about money, family, time, work
And all day long I worry
            about money, family, time, work
Always searching for a place
            of peace and tranquility
Where life is simply slower,
            and in my quest for tranquility
I’m breathless.

But then I wake and see
            the face of my sleeping child
Or the reflection of the rising sun
            on the placid lake
And gaze into the loving eyes
            of the man who sleeps beside me
I silently pray that this will be
            forever our sacred place . . . .
I’m breathless -

At the wonder of life,
           the heartache and the moments
Of amazing, joyous, miraculous love
           and there I choose to stay
Remembering every breath and every touch,
          the gift of love, family, and life . . . .
I seek this place of peace while enduring the
          pain of brokenness that sometimes makes me
Breathless.

 

This was my entry for the weekly creativity prompt at "Creative Construction:  Life and Art" last week.  This is a great community of artsy mamas who inspire and encourage one another in their individual creative endeavors.  Stop over and join in the fun! 

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