...That Which Mutes Pen and Poetry

Sometimes as a mother, I get too impatient to try to make them see! Last night at supper one of my kids remarked, they just don't get why I get so excited about a flower and I ran to the garden, plucked some blooms,exclaimed at the intricate detail and tried to make them see...

…and I would like to pull apart

My rib-cage to show you my heart

But even then, all you would see

Is flesh and blood mortality

One cannot break a seed to see

What its end fruit-result will be

Nor can we hasten bud to bloom

God is the weaver at Time’s loom

Discovery is the cap-sheaf

To argue with one’s disbelief

Someday child, living will unveil

Those things that tongue cannot detail

Love has no defined shape or size

Its lilts in laughter, bleeds from eyes

We grasp at words anemically

To jot its verve in poetry

…and I wish I could pull apart

My ribcage to show you my heart

But even then you could not see

That which mutes pen and poetry

© Janet Martin

...and I try to explain those things I cannot; how being home tending household chores and gardens is enough,

...I tell her, ‘dear daughter, sometimes I think you underestimate just how much I love you’

…and in the same breath I hear God speaking those words to me!

reminds me of this song; Coat of Many Colors