I slept last night between my two children. One smelled like pee but it didn’t stop her from nuzzling her body until it was embedded into mine. The other climbed down from her loft at the 4:30 and said I have a questions.
I told her I was sleeping and I would answer her question when we woke up.
The question was, “Do scientists know if space has an end?”
It was early, the light was pink.
On the counter was a line up of breakfast foods. One bowl of granola with cow milk. One blueberry kefir. One bowl blackberries that might come from space in early march. One yogurt with jelly.
I didn’t know the answer about space. Mostly I don’t know the answer to those questions. But I love that the size of space wakes her up at night.
I spend my days wondering about clouds, wind, how the light leaves the sky.
I wonder if she dreams about her size too, her body stretching and growing each day. Some new ability discovered. I wonder if her recent love affair with long sums comes from space in some direct way or if it’s more roundabout.
The people on my screen. They were singing at the airport. That must be what it feels like to hope in your body. They were powerful and together. I recognize that feeling as spring takes hold and I touch the ground more. As I welcome back the grey dove and their funny song that sounds like a muffled child.
I thought about the parachutes falling. The heavy parcels of food. How could it be enough? Food doesn’t fall from the sky, it comes from the ground. It needs water. It needs people to grow it. To cook it. To feed it to those who need feeding.
Food happens a lot like singing in big choruses through out the day, fragrant, touched, deliciously calling us home.
And yet something as big and complex as air travel was halted. Again. People and bodies and singing stopping money from flowing to airplanes. What a small miracle. And the overnight the grass has gone to seed.
A few things:
Right now I am on the last stages of finishing up another chapbook. Look out soon for that coming out! There will be some ways to share the joy of that.
Listening to:
Still more Hania Rani.
The Cobain 50-a great podcast about Kurt Cobain’s top favorite albums. Music history magic.
Paying attention to:
Birch trees all month long with Herbal Mystery School
The jump into spring and all the plants.