Viewing entries tagged
mothers and daughters

Comment

I Wish I Could Eat a Rainbow

I wish I could eat a rainbowI wish I could eat a rainbow, Mommy.I would grab it in my fingers and slurp it like spaghetti, rainbow juices dripping down my chin.

What would it taste like?, I asked her with a smile.

It would taste like clouds and sunshine and mist and M&M's, lemonade and cherry with strawberries and whipped cream. It would taste like flowers and the green of spring-- maybe for you the purple would taste like wine, but not for me-- for me it would taste like grape popsicle. It would be very filling.  My belly would be full from eating that rainbow.

I wish I could eat a rainbow too, I said.

You can, Mommy! There's one for you, grab it quick before it flies away!

And so I closed my eyes and reached up, pulled the rainbow to my lips, and tasted a miracle.

©Heidi Howes 2012

What would your rainbow taste like?  Let me know in the comments below...

Comment

Comment

The Daughters of Spring

Don't Mess with Mama Bird by www.lisauntitled.com

You are now three and my struggle is rushing , remembering to hold on to your tiny words, pulsing between my daydreams of pressing thoughts and the image of your silly faces in the rearview mirror.

You make me laugh, sing along sweetly to the radio, tell me a story about how Winnie the Pooh dies and then goes to jail. I am supposed to drive, steer, pay attention to the road stay between the yellow lines, and make enough money to fill this damn tank-- not to mention all those dishes in the sink at home.

I try to fit it all into this drive to school, so afraid to lose or fail, and when we arrive, when you flit from the car and float, fairy-like, to the curb you are not looking forward, only into this moment, the blossomed petals on the concrete.

Your eyes sparkle up towards mine and quick as a wink you wave your hand into the pile of  ivory petals, fling them into the air so they drift in the breeze and swirl back to the ground.

My heart rips open like a seed who knows spring is here, right now, and we are her daughters.

Comment