My mind, like a cluttered desk
lies burdened under piles
unfiled moments
unopened thoughts
unrecorded emotional exchange.
I have dropped this week’s happenings
on the floor.
They are shed clothes
waiting to be picked up
sorted through
folded and put away
into the closet of my story.
******************
I tinker with my obligations
before the day begins
shuffling them like Scrabble tiles
considering their perfect placement
on my game-board of hours
plan my drives
to count both ways
combine lists for family and work
to do double duty –
like using X to make OX and AX
pray each move will be efficient
and that I finish well
like placing Q
on TRIPLE LETTER SCORE
followed by U, I, T,
emptying my tray with S
on DOUBLE WORD SCORE
– a microcosm of Your
miraculous multiplication
of my efforts.
Lately the old mothers
have been slipping from their places
falling, dying
vacating strategic positions
leaving gaps
in the front line.
A new generation
of matriarchs is needed
to organize the family dinners
the baby showers and the anniversaries
and send the birthday cheques
There’s a call for fresh recruits
a newly commissioned troop
of kneeling warriors
arms raised in petition and praise,
blessing the infants and the in-laws
interceding for the prodigals
alert watch women
guarding the walls of the family
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