what is essential is invisible to the eye

I blink sleep from my eyes. It is a dark winter morning.
For a moment all is peace in the solemn, light.

A long list of tasks rise up from the mute depths of sleep to the choppy surface waters of "awake."

A series of have to, have to, have to's scatter like post-it-note confetti in my brain.

Some "have to's" are mundane and repetitive, (sort laundry pile, clean out cupboards and whatever is lurking at the back of the fridge)
 Some are urgent, (makes appointments for my Dad, make breakfast, get dressed!)

I hear children stirring and the distant clatter of kitchen utensils.
The have to's simmer to whispers as little bodies, warm as bread rolls fresh from the oven, tumble into our bed.

Older children scuffle around in the half light complaining of lost slippers.
The dog scampers into the house with muddy paws and a slipper-less child chases after with a soggy dishcloth.

I look at the clock.
All the "have to's" bury under other have to's like odd socks in the laundry pile.
My chest tightens.  How will I get everything done today?

Hands wade in warm, soapy, suds, I swill bowls and cups and stare out the kitchen window.
My tired eyes wonder over random, abandoned toys and settle on the bare, stillness of trees.

Uncomplicated and patient, they stand.

 A cross hatch of branches, dense as crows nests; a metaphor for my thoughts; tangled and straining for light.

Winter sunlight, thin as whey, seeps through brittle capillaries of leafless bough.

The light draws them into stark definition.

The light is a being; a spirit they are immersed in.

It is a spirit that shapes them, forms them, giving them life and purpose.

Here under the stairs it's soft bloom anoints dusty corners brimming with toys, suspended mid play.

And in the motion blur of clattering spoons and tasks undone I catch a tremulous scattering of photons shine on the soft down of baby hair that curls around the nape of her neck.


“Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”Antoine de Saint-Exupéry