August: April 2017

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

the world in a stream

I wrote this poem this time seven years ago, when Augie was three. The poem that follows is what Augie wrote at ten.

I remember the day your Imagination came in.

Suddenly, the overgrown field of Chinese elms and forgotten apple trees next to us became the

Magic Forest

filled with dinosaurs

dancing dragons with pine cone toys and

Pink Cake.

The underneath of the big red couch became the dragon’s den.

Uncle Ollie became a Giant

who lives and grows out of a cactus along the acequia.

An old wine cork

the key to Outer Space.

Bo Peep’s little bed became the ship, the airplane, the

Magic Carpet

that flew us (dog included) around the world, to Paris, to the Jungle,

and back again

safe and home and

just in time for dinner.

The day your First Steps came ~

after months of scootering and skittering across the brick floors,

your knees toughened up for Toddlerdom ~

that day is all on film, captured in silver halide, on

minutes and minutes and minutes of video maybe no one will ever watch.

The time you got your Molars

oh, we’ll remember that too.

Those teeth tearing through was like a

stray, lit firecracker

jumping all about on the

hot concrete,

sending all away, scurrying.

But the arrival of your Imagination

from someplace deep, someplace far away

someplace beyond and inside and all around,

it arrived like that maddening train whistling at 3 in the morning

closer, closer

like dragon fire breathing, roaring.

It arrived in the arms of the nice T-Rex

suddenly trundling through the backyard,

knocking over pots of Leaf and Stick and Milk Thistle Soup,

glorious

Soup of Life.

Where did this little light of Imagination come from?

Oh, the worlds it shall open up for you.

With it, you are armed. You are safe.

You will

never be alone.

The world is now yours,

and you are the world.

Travel with joy, my son,

through all your Magic Forests.