There are no accidents they say,
we may live many lives
and some, well they say some
can even transcend time,
infiltrate our being
if only in our dreams.
Could it be that "they" really know truth?
about entanglements, threads of souls
knitted tightly, a mystical spider's web of crazy glue
connecting our sticky unsuspecting souls
in a cosmic set-up designed to make us grow?
I love you any way
regardless if we've had countless encounters
in dimensions beyond or
if our connection initiated here, now.
And though in loving you I may break rules,
I've learned that love by will alone cannot be harnessed.
So when at times you've forgotten that it's now
and accidentally called me Mom
my heart has responded
from an eternal habit
that allows nothing else.
For about six years, I worked with people with developmental disabilities. In spite of my attempts to deny it, Marvin (not his real name) was special to me. I struggled and hopefully succeeded in maintaining a professional approach towards Marvin, but mysteriously, I felt an inexplicable maternal connection to him.
I ran into Marvin yesterday at a bookstore. Marvin is a huge, fifty year old teenager. His hug choked me. He chatted on and on about things going on in his life as he bubbled with innocent enthusiasm. He's doing really well. I miss him.
(Sumitted to Dverse Poets and Carry on Tuesday.)