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Monday, March 30, 2009

soil


my husband's reaction to my comment, 'i just can't find peace in this.' in the middle of the umpteenth night of not sleeping- or rather, sleeping four in a small queensized bed(full)!...

we are the dirt, the soil that our children are growing up in. . . and its spring. we're getting pounded by rain, turned over by overanxious gardeners, shockingly frozen, windburned, and all within the same day or week. It is spring, and we are the richest loam any farmer has ever seen. We are the origin of hope and the birthing nest of two entire people.
and so a trapdoor opened and some sun shone onto my heart for a few minutes as I lay in bed with my husband for the 20 minutes before our wreckage of a sleeppattern commenced...

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