Flowers from the weeds

(A poem)

Swirling, spinning all around

Toys and packaging on the ground

No more eggs or milk to be found

Pick them up? Order more?

Call the library, run to the store?

Teach the children ABC’s

Laundry’s next, then shoot the breeze

with my ladies, a weekly treat.

I should go and soak my feet.

Wash my face? Sunblock and lotion

I wish there was a magic potion

to make all these dishes clean.

Instead, I’ll garden, plant a bean

with little hands and little eyes

dirt she touches, and earthworm spies

dug with her own pail and trowel.

Dirty heads clean, now need a towel.

Brushing teeth and hair and reading,

bedtime stories after feeding

everyone a balanced meal.

Bandaids for knees that need to heal.

Time is spent everywhere,

Upkeeping, growing, giving care.

How do we balance out the needs,

pick the flowers from the weeds.

Treasure few, go deep with these.

Swirling, spinning all around

With these moments that we’ve found.