A February Morning
Son:
Watching and observing, as if thinking: why so different? which way it is supposed to be, this adapted chair with it’s rigid edges and tight belts, or those little feet of them rocking the floor underneath?
My world, my words, my cries, my desires..they’re all silent. Their desires are loud and out there!
..oh yeey there is the light again, I love the secret laughs I have with it, but oh..their merry voices and dancing bodies seems fun..and more comfortable!
Mother:
How I wish he can reach out to me somehow, something more than lefting up his head towards me and looking straight into my eyes.
Does he want me to walk away and let him be, or help him experience the floor rocking under his feet?
sometimes it feels like one of my foot is on a collapsing bridge, and the other on a standing one. And oh God it is hard.. to keep going on when every now and then the leashes whip to pull my spirit down.
Today, I dared and thought it:
It’s not about being fair or not, you just choose them randomly , then we kid ourselves thinking we are special.
At His Own Pace 