Blended

Beauty and plastic dolls. The ideal. The teach me. Love me. There is a time and a place for discipline. I'll say "No" one day and she'll understand. She'll button up. Listen up. Stand at attention. She'll hear the sounds of daddy's feet thumping through household hardwood floors. And remember not to touch the stove. Remember not to eat things off the floor.

Months will pass. Years will pass. But not now. Not now because brain function. Junction. Biorhythms system. Ties that bind aren't tied. Aren't connected. Synapses are growing. Flowing. As I'm towing the line. As I'm mowing my lawn. Trimming my hedges and saying my pledges of getting my piece of the apple pie.

I hear of landslide, hurricane, war, hunger, Aids ridden, genocide planet on daily news blips and bleeps through unconscious radio news programs. I hear the end is coming. The end is near. But it hasn't come. I used to stand on the tip of the volcano and want the eruption. Want Y2K to end it all. All my single life searching uncertainty. But now I hold my wife's and offspring's hands and think of growing old with them. Searching with them. Learning with them. How wonderful a world it can be?

One day, if we are all still here, her synapses will connect. The paths will be made. And "No" will mean "No". "Hot" will mean "Hot". Lose ends tied and connected. The synapses will be grown and evolved. And she will wake and see and understand the beauty that is this world. I can only hope and pray for this, on this . . . Mother's day.