BabyGrace
Refugee
You're nestled, warm
Safe on a pile of tattered blankets
Heaped in the corner.
You've come in
From a night of cat-eye carousing,
From secrets I won't ever know
But for once,
I don't need to know.
Your pretty face of innocent grace
I watch your pink tongue flashing
Over the baby fur on your shoulder blade,
Craning your head to reach the most ridiculous places.
You settle down tucked in a delicate
Warm ball of life; fur and spiderleg whiskers,
Wet little nose in such a small body.
I watch you breathe slowly,
All your concentration on the moment,
Your life so simple;
The world shimmers, sighing
And taking in a deep breath with
The rise of your perfect rib cage; the horizon
Slowly expands...
I think of all the other warm corners in this cold world,
All the other tired girls lying on their beds watching
The slow, intent sleep of such precious life;
I feel the clutter leave me
And at least for now,
Everything is pure again.
~~~~~
it's cliche and boring I know, this just came from listening to the Pumpkins' Thirty-Three and watching my Gracie sleep. sometimes we just find peace in the small things, especially animals and their approach to life for me, and I kinda wanted to put it down in words.
Safe on a pile of tattered blankets
Heaped in the corner.
You've come in
From a night of cat-eye carousing,
From secrets I won't ever know
But for once,
I don't need to know.
Your pretty face of innocent grace
I watch your pink tongue flashing
Over the baby fur on your shoulder blade,
Craning your head to reach the most ridiculous places.
You settle down tucked in a delicate
Warm ball of life; fur and spiderleg whiskers,
Wet little nose in such a small body.
I watch you breathe slowly,
All your concentration on the moment,
Your life so simple;
The world shimmers, sighing
And taking in a deep breath with
The rise of your perfect rib cage; the horizon
Slowly expands...
I think of all the other warm corners in this cold world,
All the other tired girls lying on their beds watching
The slow, intent sleep of such precious life;
I feel the clutter leave me
And at least for now,
Everything is pure again.
~~~~~
it's cliche and boring I know, this just came from listening to the Pumpkins' Thirty-Three and watching my Gracie sleep. sometimes we just find peace in the small things, especially animals and their approach to life for me, and I kinda wanted to put it down in words.
