lightning through the window
lights the sky and
brings to mind all the crevices
of darkness from where
we are born
and when we die
we die in darkness
and the light breaks through us
until we shine as lightning
through the window
Sunday 11 September 2016
Sunday 4 September 2016
The New Year is in September
One more day. One more day until bedtimes and awake times become more routine, until homework and studies dominate conversations, until Husband and I once again relinquish our status as Most Visible Adults in our children's lives.
The binders and pencils and pens and erasers and glue sticks and pencil crayons and markers and lined paper and liquid paper and sticky-white-holes-for-when-your-holed-paper-tears thingies and highlighters and calculators and stickies and knapsacks and lunch bags are bought (though not yet organized). Husband has begun assembly line lunch preparations for freezer sandwiches, and today I bulked up at the Bulk Barn with snacks and fillers. Thankfully everyone can take peanut butter and trail mix to school now that no one is in elementary school any longer.)
For the third year in a row, our three kids will be attending separate schools and this year two of them are at new ones. All three on public transportation, with the youngest the farthest to go. I want to ride with them, to walk into the school holding their hands still sticky with applesauce, to give them a hug as they trip over still-too-big and too-white running shoes with their impossibly big knapsacks weighing them down. There will be no glitter glue or popsicle-stick creations this year, but I know instead there will be debates and discussions about big issues and much puzzling over equations that I don't remember how to do. New schools, new teachers, new friends, new subjects, new goals, new ideas, new opportunities: this is the time of change.
It is September, much more the start of a new year than January.
It's not just the return to school, but also the obvious change in season that signals a shift in the universe and brings in me a feeling of joy and melancholy all mixed together. January from December? More of the same usually: cold, snow, weeks and months of winter to come, a brief hiatus for Christmas and New Year's celebrations, and then a quick return to routines. But August to September? The nights darken earlier, the mornings and evenings are cooler, the leaves on the trees carry a dullness in the green -- a green that almost seems brown -- with only a slight hint of the colours with which they will soon present their orchestral radiance in autumn.
The new crescent moon last night, a slice of silver in the quieting sky.
This is the time for change.
The binders and pencils and pens and erasers and glue sticks and pencil crayons and markers and lined paper and liquid paper and sticky-white-holes-for-when-your-holed-paper-tears thingies and highlighters and calculators and stickies and knapsacks and lunch bags are bought (though not yet organized). Husband has begun assembly line lunch preparations for freezer sandwiches, and today I bulked up at the Bulk Barn with snacks and fillers. Thankfully everyone can take peanut butter and trail mix to school now that no one is in elementary school any longer.)
For the third year in a row, our three kids will be attending separate schools and this year two of them are at new ones. All three on public transportation, with the youngest the farthest to go. I want to ride with them, to walk into the school holding their hands still sticky with applesauce, to give them a hug as they trip over still-too-big and too-white running shoes with their impossibly big knapsacks weighing them down. There will be no glitter glue or popsicle-stick creations this year, but I know instead there will be debates and discussions about big issues and much puzzling over equations that I don't remember how to do. New schools, new teachers, new friends, new subjects, new goals, new ideas, new opportunities: this is the time of change.
It is September, much more the start of a new year than January.
It's not just the return to school, but also the obvious change in season that signals a shift in the universe and brings in me a feeling of joy and melancholy all mixed together. January from December? More of the same usually: cold, snow, weeks and months of winter to come, a brief hiatus for Christmas and New Year's celebrations, and then a quick return to routines. But August to September? The nights darken earlier, the mornings and evenings are cooler, the leaves on the trees carry a dullness in the green -- a green that almost seems brown -- with only a slight hint of the colours with which they will soon present their orchestral radiance in autumn.
The new crescent moon last night, a slice of silver in the quieting sky.
This is the time for change.
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