Musings - August 28, 2011

The hum of the engine lingers in the heat
As the mother unbuckles her child from the seat
Exiting slowly, taking each breath by step
'Tis only a simple trip to the corner pharmacy
So pure, like a painting, except

Their canvas moves to the beat of her arm
Guiding her child down to avoid minute harm
She moves to the back end of the car
And notices his unwound shoelace
Overseeing his tying bent over the lot's dried tar

She touches his head, each strand sings
As if the crack of a hatched egg brings
New life with each ray of light
A new skill is learned by his hand
And her heart subtly leaps at this sight

I imagine they're out for milk
Or cough medicine to make his throat feel like silk
But every errand or task is another scene
In his burgeoning life's story
And his mother may be here in a portrait serene

When the innocence leaves, it leaves forever
Yet by her eyes, remains tied by a tether
Never shall it leave her maternal heart
Never shall he grow out of her image
She has built a David to transcend art

Parading its youthful exuberance
No ding, nick or scratch breaks its trance
Until the ultimate touch breaths life in
He'll move like sliding rock from a canyon
His cracks will scar his infected skin

The beating he takes from the sun's rays
She cannot prevent despite that she prays
So the simple act of a boy tying laces
No matter what ruins may come
Enlivens her heart, 'tho suspended time races