May 13: Reflective Tonight, Letting Go, "Things My Daughter Knows"

Feeling quite reflective tonight over the events of this weekend.  Prom for my daughter.  Mother's Day.  All the changes coming this month.  I know that it's my job to raise my children to the best of my ability.  Try to teach them good morals, common sense, independence.  Then, I have to let them go.

I hope I've been a good father for my daughter.  She is the best poem I've ever written.

If you can't tell, Saint Marty is having a little trouble with the letting go part. 

Things My Daughter Knows

by:  Martin Achatz

How to lace ribbons up her shins,
count music beats, lift herself
to her toes, hold her body
on that axis, those ten digits,
defy laws of gravity, motion,
float like some undiscovered planet.

How to brush her red hair
upside down, rake teeth
from scalp downward,
over and over, until her mane
glows like organized flame
when she tosses her head back,
when she looks at me
from the forest fire of her face.

How to ignore the gaze of boys
as she splits water with the curves
of her hips and chest, dives
into the deep green end, reaches
for something on the bottom,
maybe an angel she painted
in kindergarten, all orange, black,
a ladybug singing in excelsis Deo.

How to feed me Life Savers
when my blood sugar dips so low
I can't remember anything
but my need for juice, cookie,
the steps of bite, chew, swallow,
bite again, as my mind untangles
the shoelaces of memory, finds
at its center knot this girl,
all leg, arm, body, DNA
of an encounter almost 13 years old,
when I reached out in the dark one night
and found the spark of love.