Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or…
Typewriter Series #411 by Tyler Knott Gregson
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to every single one of you amazing mothers. And to the one’s in my life, thank you, so very much, for showing me the nature of love. I learn more of it by watching you than I could ever express in my silly words.
Text for Tired Eyes:
This is an ode to all of those that have never asked for one.
A thank you in words to all of those that do not do
what they do so well for the thanking.
This is to the mothers.
This is to the ones who match our first scream
with their loudest scream; who harmonize in our shared pain
and joy and terrified wonder when life begins.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who stay up late and wake up early and always know
the distance between their soft humming song and our tired ears.
To the lips that find their way to our foreheads and know,
somehow always know, if too much heat is living in our skin.
To the hands that spread the jam on the bread and the mesmerizing
patient removal of the crust we just cannot stomach.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who shout the loudest and fight the hardest and sacrifice
the most to keep the smiles glued to our faces and the magic
spinning through our days. To the pride they have for us
that cannot fit inside after all they have endured.
To the leaking of it out their eyes and onto the backs of their
hands, to the trails of makeup left behind as they smile
through those tears and somehow always manage a laugh.
This is to the patience and perseverance and unyielding promise
that at any moment they would give up their lives to protect ours.
This is to the mothers.
To the single mom’s working four jobs to put the cheese in the mac
and the apple back into the juice so their children, like birds in
a nest, can find food in their mouths and pillows under their heads.
To the dreams put on hold and the complete and total rearrangement
of all priority. This is to the stay-at-home moms and those that
find the energy to go to work every day; to the widows and the
happily married.
To the young mothers and those that deal with the unexpected
announcement of a new arrival far later than they ever anticipated.
This is to the mothers.
This is to the sack lunches and sleepover parties, to the soccer games
and oranges slices at halftime. This is to the hot chocolate
after snowy walks and the arguing with the umpire
at the little league game. To the frosting ofbirthday cakes
and the candles that are always lit on time; to the Easter egg hunts,
the slip-n-slides and the iced tea on summer days.
This is to the ones that show us the way to finding our own way.
To the cutting of the cord, quite literally the first time
and even more painfully and metaphorically the second time around.
To the mothers who become grandmothers and great-grandmothers
and if time is gentle enough, live to see the children of their children
have children of their own. To the love.
My goodness to the love that never stops and comes from somewhere
only mothers have seen and know the secret location of.
To the love that grows stronger as their hands grow weaker
and the spread of jam becomes slower and the Easter eggs get easier
to find and sack lunches no longer need making.
This is to the way the tears look falling from the smile lines
around their eyes and the mascara that just might always be
smeared with the remains of their pride for all they have created.
This is to the mothers.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
(via tylerknott)
You should come here now,
sneak through the ink of nightfall
and fall into bed.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
(via tylerknott)
It’s the eyebrows raised
and the glance across the room;
it’s the tiny smirk.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
(via tylerknott)
Am I worth the leap?
Am I worth the falling for?
Am I worth the fear?
There is a strength that comes in silence, a strength that never needs to announce itself or prove its measure. The mountains have never needed to scream of their own grandeur, nor whisper of their might.
Follow me @TylerKnot on Instagram and Twitter.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
(via tylerknott)
It’s a morning race
between the sunlight and I
to kiss your cheek first.
They will tell you that you can choose. You can be the mountains they will say, strong and still and patient. They will tell you that you can be the sea, fluid and adaptable and capable of carrying such great weight. They will tell you must choose…please tell them they are wrong. Tell them you are both.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
(via tylerknott)
I feel your heartbeat
pass between your lips and mine
while they linger, still.
