August 20, 2013

Pandora's Box

I come to my bed late in the night
and slip into the space that you,
my youngest daughter,
have already found your way to,
plump and round and perfect
and smelling as only you do.
As I lay my body down beside you
you stir from your slumber
and cry out from your dreaming,
in your round two-year-old tongue,
“Open it ! Open it Mumma!”
As I scoop you up in my arms
pulling you in close to my heart,
and we lie still again together,
I feel a great heavy lid
opening in my solar plexus
like a Pandora’s box,
summoned by your mysterious demand,
and precious jewels, turning and spilling
into my blood stream,
tumbling through the cells of my body
like a prayer awakened,
and again you stir
and again you cry out
“Open it Mumma, open it!
Open my mandjarin!”

Lucy Pierce © 2013

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