The Hurry

Somehow, some way,

what I want got in my own way,

changed the words as they came,

they weren’t what I meant to say.

They didn’t stay true; somehow they were out of tune.

What I want is this:

I want your heart so full of joy that it’s about to burst,

I want your face to smile so much that it is always that way,

I want your stomach to be a little sore from laughing,

I want you to feel the purest of joys, always.

What I said was this:

Please eat your breakfast,

Please start eating your breakfast,

Please eat.

And this continued for long enough.

Long enough to realize that you weren’t hungry.

But you have medicine to take,

With an empty stomach, it might make your stomach ache.

Please eat, something..

I want you to eat your breakfast.

When you finally ate what I thought was enough,

It then became I want you to put on your socks,

Put on your boots, your coat, your scarf, your beanie.

Then I want you to grab your backpack.

I want you to open the door, let’s get on our way.

I want you to make sure you have everything you need for your day.

As I look back, all I hear are the words I didn’t say, as I rushed, pushed, and forced you on your way.

The words I didn’t say, your words that I didn’t stop long enough to listen to, really listen to.

The words I didn’t say. 

How are you feeling, how did you sleep?

Are you excited for school today?

What are you thinking, what did you dream of?

All questions I made no time to ask.

What I want is this, I want you to know that I love you and you are a million times more magnificent than words could ever convey.

That just scratches the surface of what I want, and what I wanted to say.

This day like so many you are kind enough to teach me, in a most forgiving way.

This lesson I learn can only be repaid one way,

by letting things come as they come, and go as they go, tomorrow, and every day.

Easing off the accelerator that sometimes carries me away.