Connection

That Rhythmic Dance

I have shared my love of the skies
With my children
Just as my mother has to me.

It is a connection to the cycles,
To the phases.
A generation of past and future
All tracked by astronomers.
The regular rhythms and rotations.
The future can be predicted
With precision.

It goes unnoticed.
That beauty.
That light.
If not for my calendar
And my lunar yoga practices,
I may lose that connection.

Unaware of that rhythmic dance
Of the cosmos always happening
Hidden behind those clouds.
Beyond my human sight.
There is magic and certainty,
Mystery and always beauty.


parenting

Shopping with Mom

I remember our solo shopping trips to K-Mart.
It was just for a couple of hours
And I was my mom’s shopping buddy,
Helping to push the cart
and being surrounded by endless options
available in the aisles.
A girl could get lost for an hour or two
Just browsing and dreaming in the toy department.

After our shopping was complete,
We would go get an Italian grinder to share.
It was always a highlight and bittersweet
Because it meant our shopping trip was 
coming to an end.
Plus, shopping always gives me an appetite.
And not just for the potential goods and wares
But the fulfillment that each item promises.

I wonder what memories I’m creating today
That my children will cherish into their adulthood.
We never know what impression will make its mark
When we’re living the moment in real-time as it occurs.
It’s only in hindsight and reflection
That our memories get formed and shaped
Later to be accessed again at a future date.
To be determined.
We never know when a scent, a sound or a view 
will recall that memory back into focus
to embody that time and space once again.