Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Promise

A child’s tears make a sound.   Just whispers.  Of a heart that needs.  Bigness means so little.  Strength of bones and muscle- so little.  A heart that needs can lie in even broadest chest. 

I heard a tear once.  Whispery.  The ache in his heart for his momma.  From the eye of a man came the song of the heart in a boy.  A fragile grasp on the growing distance between a baby, a boy, a man, and his mother.  The promise I made to him, more fragile still. 

I’m not going to die for a very, very long time. 

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6 comments:

  1. oh, those promises. Beautifully written.

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  2. 'I heard a tear once, whispery'. Awesome.

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  3. Recently I witnessed a fear in my husband's eyes after talking to his aging mother...reading Promise sums up what I saw. The fragile grasp on the growing distance. Thank you for helping me understand what he is going through!

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  4. Oh how sad. My kids are realizing here recently that parents die. Scott and I are trying to reassure them in the same way. As far as we know, we'll be with them for a very long time.

    By the way, I just noticed for the hundred twenty fifth time that you say Email me fuckers on the left. I love that.

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