swinging

as we all do

orange leaf falls

swaying side to side on the way down

The middle of autumn

As the leaves were turned brown

A new Mum held her son - asleep

with peace and love abound

She held her son - with love

and hope of the world that he would stand in

But also cherishing him as he was

Nestled safely in her arms - still

Swinging

~ ~ ~

chain link, with non-stop creaks

On the seventh day of the week

Son’s Sunday best a little more than sullied

But his infectious laugh and smile put Mum’s heart at ease

Her heart was pleased

She got him looking good for Service - hair combed and his teeth white

No fight or fuss

And now she saw her son, with glee streaking across his face

Wreaking havoc on the playground with abandon

Tripping, falling, fumbling - but still running

Going too and fro, no woes, with a loving mother right behind him giving him just enough of a push

Swinging

Stuffy suit and tie

Sweaty teens at night

The past month had been nothing but nerves

Questions of “What do girls like?” and “Do I have two left feet?”

Begging and pleas for exorbitant funds to be spent on a single night

Of sweaty hormonal ‘feels’

Crammed in temporarily renovated gym

With music they can semi-dance with

People who ‘like-like’ each other, or find cute one way or another

Sweaty Son, in Stuffy Suit and tie, had asked a young girl (Jennifer)

She made him nervous. She made neat

She was very polite. Very sweet.

Pictures were taken, braces flashing from teeth

Then off they went, laughing and giggling off-beat

Walking over to the rented limousine,

Heart full, with spirits high

Fingers interlocked as they made off into the night

Arms sweaty and heavy

Swinging

~ ~ ~

Over a dozen missed phone calls in under a week

When a call picks up, its brief and bleak

Son is under duress, no breaks and no sleep

The cold and dark creep in, making slippery time even harder to keep

College life isn’t for everyone

But for him it has to be

Mother tells him she loves him no matter what

He says he knows

She tells him she can always come home

Knowing he won’t

He’s his fathers son, of that she’s both assured and afraid

His father held up every pillar in all their lives up until the grave

And even after, his name is invoked and carries the weight her Son hangs on his shoulders

Everyday

She prays that her son comes home

Safe

She’s afraid that there’ll be a night

Where his head is just too heavy

And he comes back from a lecture, or work

Snow eroding whatever will he had

Spirit - broken

Head - hung low

Swinging

From branch, to bar, to breeze

The birds fly overhead, and at eye level

Not caring for the sensitivities of pedestrians

Because why would they?

Children follow suit, as they do

Gallivanting without a care in the world as parents fawn over them, or feign interest after the nth ‘lookit me!’

Little did the guardians know

That this nth time, the child was deciding whether or not they could harness the ability to fly (not slide) from the playscape

It’s a Saturday afternoon, and time has taken a nap

As the sun sinks sweetly

Friends and colleagues alike are making plans

To forget that the weekend is fleeting

Cycles repeating

So often, yet every unit believes themselves to be unique

And so they are groomed by circumstance and ignorance to complete

The manacled(/mangled) path of the many

The air was light and free

The ground looked inviting, but not very comforting

A new scientific discovery that a child had unwilling made themselves the primary test subject

First there was joy and anticipation

Then there was the awe of the unknown

And finally the soul gripping fear

That

Because you dared to try and fly - You run the risk of falling. Spectacularly.

Then comes the flailing, the threat of tears and the hopeless screams as the consequence of stepping off the beaten path quickly approaches

Only for you-

For the child, to be caught

Very expertly in loving arms

First, she is too shaken to register that she had escaped her the jaws of what would be at least a month long headache (for her whole being, and her guardians’ conscience)

Then she looks up to see a familiar struggle face - feigning calmness and adjusting her weight in his arms

She was safe - She knew because he told her

Ruffled hair and but then pinched her cheeks

With the warning to never do that again - of which she didn’t need to be told once, let alone twice

Then came the cacophony of fussing and crying from an older grey woman

Cooing and crying. Asking and answering her own questions, all while fawning and fearing for the safety of a child that was just looking at her with amusement

She was safe - the child knew this because her people were here. So willingly

The day at the park came to an end

All parties exhausted and looking forward to rest

They yapped until the corner, and skipped around the bend

The young girl talking about how she couldn’t wait to go to the park again

The older woman and young man laughed at the jest,

Shared a glance

“Her mother can absolutely not hear of this” - they silently agreed

So off they went

The child more than pleased

All three of them at ease

With the knowledge that at the end of each day, no matter what it may bring

That they can end the day

Hand, in hand, in hand

Swinging

Down the street