Treading Time

Margaret and Ann

 

From the moment I was born
you were preparing me for this.

Standing me up
letting go of my arms
as I bobbed on waves of air
walking into the world

Encouraging me
as I bobbed back to you
on my spongy, uncurled legs

 

 

Teaching me
to lift the spoon, cupping your hand around mine
to sip the juice, pursing your lips, sucking in sound
to bang the bowl for more, picking it up for me
again and again, and to sing
“like this, ooo … like this, ahhh”
while dancing me ’round the kitchen

Sitting at the piano next to you
or clapping hands together, making music
you taught me to love the rhythm of life.

Each new lesson
brought me into my own gifts
modeling the movement
of letting go.

You celebrated my success
inspiring me to reach forward
open my arms, embrace my time here.

You prepared me so well, knowing
I would, someday, feel that bobbing motion, again
unsteady, treading air
walking into a world
empty of you

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