Last night E had to memorize a poem for school, and he pulled it up on my laptop to print it out. So this morning, when I sat down to work, this Robert Frost poem was still there, on my screen, and I was amazed to see how beautifully it describes the juggle that makes up my days during this phase of my life. I thought you might see some of your own life captured in the poem, too. So I’m sharing it with you.
For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at. once
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with~ hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best.
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.