The Promise of Stillness

As yet, the grass is unaware  of the shift in season and indeed today it could easily still be summer. The leaves that punctuate the lawn speak of autumnal blazes, but the grass, barely cool yet, is still green beneath my feet. The sun in my hair is hot to the touch. I send my own roots deep into this soil, engage a promise that gurgles in my deep belly. It is a promise to my sons, my loves, to stay put. To find the beauty in stillness. To embrace the winter's cold.

I anticipate the snow and shiver slightly, an imaginary chill drifting across the tops of my shoulders even as they glow with September's last light. It is how we grow, how we change, what we give to the babies we bear. Oh. I am so deeply in love with them, and their little voices jingle in the air around my ears like country wind chimes: their gratitude, their faith in me, their utter love, all hung at odd angles but perfectly balanced and gently singing.

Thank you, sweet boys, for making me want to be the best thing I can become. For choosing me to be your mother--what luck! For your soft kisses before bed each night. For your hands in mine every morning. For the abundance you have brought to my life. For the weight of what we are--together. Namaste, my sweet bunnies. Namaste.