in my tiny
little book
of
truth.
which i often
misplace.
or forget
i ever
found.
is a wee little page
with some swirls
and sparkles.
when i seek it-
when i think to look-
when i forget to think
and i feel
my way.
through
those tough rough
argh gar
ruckity rickity
sticky guck
moments.
minutes.
months.
there in the swirls,
in the mini sparkles,
on the wee little page
of my tiny
book of truth,
i am reminded
to just be silent.
to say,
please excuse me,
and walk away.
in those moments when
i want to
rage
holler
scream
stomp
shout
at these two
small people
huge souls
in my care.
in those minutes when
i can’t see but for black
with this strange light around the edges.
when all the parts of me
are clamoring to
be heard
about their own
personal
injustice.
exploding with self righteousness.
the book of
small truths
reminds me.
just walk away.
hold onto all the words
for a breath or two.
sometimes words are just
not
truth.
and the truth is on those
worn thin
swirly pages
of your
silent
heart.
woowoo mama 