An Ordinary Sunday Morning

I am standing outside my garden
looking in
hoarfrost has painted everything white
the world becomes light
even if the shadows are long

I hear her laughing behind me
she comes running and shouts “catch me, catch me”
the happy laughter echoing in the morning stillness
the neighbors sleep
the birds sit quietly on their branches
looking down
all but one
that sings in rhythm to her footsteps

and I catch her
share her laughter
this laughter that only a young child can give
this laughter filled with trust
and faith in the world

and how can you not share that laughter
on a morning like this
when the world takes on a fairy tale landscape
fictional and unreal
white and clean and bright
with long, weak shadows
that dance in rhythm to her movements?

Remember this
a voice within me whispers
never forget this morning
or this being that she is today
this ordinary Sunday morning
when you woke up in a fairy tale.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. kip says:

    so perfect and so true…(I always thought this same way when the boys were little & we would all be out doing something together, all the playing, the laughing, the joking & even the arguing …those moments and “who” they (and I) were will remain as beautiful stars in my sky, even when the rest of it is black)…

    Like

    1. Eygló Daða says:

      The only problem with this thinking is that it sometimes leaves me nostalgic for times that haven’t even past yet! =) It’s silly but true.

      Like

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