Lower Manhattan is filled with ghosts and somewhere far away, vengeance is sought as satellite guided bombs light up ancient cold stone mountain caves.
But my children laugh from deep in their bellies with cherry red kool aid lips and purple sharpie whiskers on their cheeks.
It is here I find my center. In their eyes is an end to the vengeance and wars of their fathers and the bombs my children throw are rainbow confetti, glitter and phlox.
A purpose driven life. A saint, a martyr, a teacher, a Buddha. Fulfillment in having the future solidly in my hands. A commander in chief training my troops to be the boots on the ground that win the hearts and minds of the future with compassion and laughter.
My children ARE my IRA. My future IS secure. I am living a life filled with meaning. I am changing the world, tying one shoe string at a time. When I lick my finger to wipe away the slyly tasted mud pie, I am a conqueror of the universe.
There really is NOTHING I want more than to raise my children. Together, we are shaking the universe.
No comments:
Post a Comment