Sunday, July 4, 2010

Picking raspberries at the well.

Had I known
that one year olds can pick their own raspberries
reaching out with fat sticky fingers
joyful and sure

had I known the caution-less bliss
no bug checks
just raspberry to mouth
again and again

and had I known
I mean really known

sweet raspberry pulp
smeared haphazardly on baby fat chins

I wouldn't have chosen writing as my outlet

but photography to catch


But then I realize no still camera could capture
the sun's dance in pixie wisps
the way it really is

and so maybe cinematography
until I realize no lens at all
can appreciate
that the wind is better when it's laced with
belly laughs
and chatter untainted by a good grasp of language.

So I'm back to words
and feel like I can't get enough air

until the right word is found

time is slipping away
this will pass
before I've captured it right
and before I'm ready to let it go


and still nothing feels big enough
right enough
or true enough.

Not disillusioned by art
but humbled by life.


freckletree. said...


Daryl said...


Deb said...

You painted this picture perfectly.

Jasmine said...

I love this. Its what I think daily as I watch them grow--but can't ever seem to put to words. Well done.

Kim said...

Another great one.

Kathy said...

Well, I think daily as I watch them grow--but can't ever seem to put to words. but thanx for the tips.

Cindy said...

I really like your blog, its very interesting, must read your other post too, but thanx for this one.

Carry said...

Wow, i just say that You painted this picture perfectly, thanx for sharing with us, keep it up.