on days like these

spare moments are spent scrubbing mould and mildew off the walls and windows
clean laundry (needing to be folded) mingles with the dirty stuff
eyes are tired and there's another bout of indigestion
there's nothing "pretty" to photograph
baby takes two hours to settle to sleep
its uncomfortably cool all of a sudden
emails pile up, unanswered letters age

some days are just like that,
and fortunately, they pass like every other -
and begin afresh.

the desire to have it all in order,
is sometimes to my undoing -
wanting to live a simple, honest, joyful, thoughtful life
becomes complicated, messy, all-consuming.

and I sit down with a sigh,
close my eyes,
think on words of truth, like
love suffers long and is kind;
love... bears all things, believes all things
endures all things. Love never fails...

and I whisper from my lips, yes,
and begin to move as best I can;

drink a tall glass of water,
dress my chilly toes with socks,
let the fresh air in through the window,
read a poem by gerard manly hopkins,
begin an email,
go and soothe my stirring child,
nuzzle the soft hair on the back of his neck -
and there's beauty to behold
in his scent, contented cheeks,
and eyes wide
smiling at me.

the most beautiful thing in my life
in not able to be captured by word or lens,
it is lived, endured, given, received

on days like these.