I wrote this poem after my family and I first moved to North Carolina from Colorado. At the time, we were living up in the mountains outside of a beautiful little town called Lake Lure. We had no friends or family in the area and due to our isolation, most of our days were spent wandering around the wilderness and playing silly little games to keep ourselves entertained. My partner was also working full time on a horse farm and since I hadn't yet found employment, I was in full time daddy mode-which meant practicing patience and opening up to the flow of my two year old daughter. I learned a great deal about myself as well as my role as a father during that period and this poem is a testament to those lessons.
A thick and nourishing mist
clings like a scarf along the ridge line
The air is rich with the smell of Decembers natural decay
The lake, our home now, reflects the mood of the season
Silent and restful, yet swollen with possibility
I count my many blessings as we walk along empty trails
She is two now
Full of curiosity and desire and a fire
that could shape glass.
Her stubbornness is a lesson that I will forever be learning
I smile at the thought of my mounting frustration
Wet pants are a small price to pay for the sound of her laughter
The puddles hold her eyes like daddy clings to her wandering fingers
Adults are just a container, trying to hold on to an experience
The child is an ecstatic splash that sends ripples through attachment
The lessons we receive are just as important as those we give
The practice of parenting involves catch and release
