The sound and the sigh
Swoosh …
Each inhalation
An exaltation
Of the life force
That made these dark bodies
Out of bits of earth and dust
Deep breathing
Their diaphragms contract
Lungs filling – and flattening
Recoiling into a round of gust rhythm
Soft sounds seep
From lips loose and lax . . .
Relax.
A whistle
A wheeze
A total loss of control
A pause, a silent moment
Apneic and awing
The fragility of these emitting funnels
These tunnels that take it all in
Quicken this maternal heart
The scent of sweet milk
Souring on virgin tongues
Wafts through the air
Down the hall
Into my room.
A trail of incense
Olfactory only to mother
Into a squall, giving way
To gales
Building
And blustering into
wind shear.
Then quiet creeps in,
Winding into my peace,
From peril to pranayama.
“Being at home can be fun, insulating, relaxed, boring or isolating ... depending on how the day is going.”*
School holidays are almost over in my part of the world – six long weeks of noise and squabbling balanced by hot, lazy days at the beach or the pool with lots of daring exploits and laughter. Many of our days were spent at home, basking in simple pleasures like baking, playing games or outdoor pursuits – trying to relax the everyday routines of school-morning bustle and ‘having to be somewhere on time’. However pleasant, I must admit to being relieved that life gets back to normal next week, and I can reclaim some of my own time for writing again!
* From Being Mummy by Anne‑marie Taplin published April 2007