Igantia

Homeopathic Ignatia 

Is maybe the world’s best thing.

I did once catch myself

Saying, “Tra-la-la”

(Not even kidding)

In the bathroom as I got dressed.

That’s when I quit taking it twice a day,

As that seemed a bit less like Amy

And more like Maria von Trapp

And it scared me (through my euphoria).

I had forgotten how much I like this remedy,

And I took a dose last night before bed.

Didn’t fall asleep until 1:30am,

And woke again about five hours later,

Ready to go.

This feels like vitality and energy and joy,

And I love it. 

But maybe I shouldn’t feel quite this good?

Things to think about . . . 

But pardon me as I get another dose.

Providential Timing

I had just finished my second draft

Of my second book

And sent it off for review 

When I opened a Sonlight discussion page

And was stunned to see 

A link to my first book and the words,

“It really sucks.”

So far, I’ve heard nothing but 

Compliments.

Of course, those are all from my friends.

I fell asleep then, so thankful

That I had no hint of negativity 

Before I had finished editing.

Would I have had the confidence

To carry on? 

I don’t know!

Driving Back Alone

After I dropped my boys off at work, 

I turned up the music and prepared to jam

For fifteen minutes.

Then I realized that many people wish

For fifteen minutes,

So I drove in silence and gratitude.

Basketball, of a Sort

My little boys stuck a cardboard box 

With the bottom blown out

Up in the chin-up bar that lives 

Over the play room.

They toss balls the size of grapefruits

Again and again,

Rejoicing in their improving skill.

Starting Something New

In one of those horrible realizations 

That I could possibly win the anti-award

“Worst Wife Ever,”

I was idly thinking of 

My husband’s new business.

He cuts down trees in tight places,

Removes the threats to houses,

Makes the world safe for humanity.

And he has plenty of work,

And plenty of joy,

And a few aggravations,

And he covers his costs, I think.

But a string of bids has left him 

Working many days for no pay,

And I start to get cranky.

Until I realized that I, too,

Am learning something new,

Dispensing homeopathic remedies,

Often to good effect,

Sometimes to not.

I feel bad enough

That I’m not perfect.

How much worse if Phil ever said,

“Why didn’t you get it right?”

Instead of his unfailing encouragement to me.

So when Phil returns, exhausted 

From another day of hard labor,

But having problem-solved,

And helped, and spent time with people he likes,

May I be a voice for good in his life.

World Cup

Four years ago, I followed, loosely,

Enjoyed the hair of Ochoa, the Mexican goalie,

But was overall thrilled that

Germany won.

It’s been twenty years since my summer friend

Nickie and I watched one game of World Cup.

I remember nothing else about it,

As we watched tiny players run forever on the enormous field.

Prone to the Vomits

When my son asked for a butter sandwich 

(One piece of buttered bread, with a second piece on top)

And a cut-up apple for his dinner on the road,

I thought that was a fine choice.

And when he fell asleep in the car 

Before eating more than a few apple slices,

I let him sleep through the night 

Without waking him to eat.

And so I was up well before six, with a child

Vomiting

Next to me.

Poor baby. 

Poor mommy.