Rainbow Promises

This poem stems from the intense challenge of raising three young children at the same. You love them more than anything, but love hurts.

Purple- Like the emperor’s robe, covering the penitent’s bruise are my little ones upon my soul.

Blue- As the remorseful tear and the expectant minutes before dawn, so is my child that scrapes his shin and longs to be large like me.

Green- The day-old shoot of a blade of grass, and the tart lip smack of a granny smith, are my newly born lives as they jealously long for their rival sibling’s boring toy.

Yellow- Like the sweating sun turned up too high to squint wandering eyes and my honest ones when they are certain the mountain lion will eat then on today’s hike.

Orange- As a neon big stick, sweet on the lips, but grainy off the ground, like my little pumpkins that please the senses while exhausting all parental energies.

Red- Like a blacksmith’s furnace, aglow with life that melts unyielding structures, like my little flashes of flesh, that break down all social structure, and yet melt my heart.