Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 2 Comments

To Grasp at Golden Flickers

last night’s dream seeps away
the moment my head shifts
and rolls from the pillow

there are only fragments
something about wings
we had them
not light and feathery
like storybook angels
but visceral and earthly
like a pterodactyl

these days
the golden door’s cracked open
and the light
leaks in and pervades
offering glints and flashes
that defy timelines
shift matter in space

now
I sense
a future
that I already knew
before

time’s triggered
in quick glimpses
in just the way his fingers curve, mid-air
suddenly
I remember what will be

some deep sensation
reverberates
disregarding time as line
past and future
collide within my cells
to all time
no time
every time
all things

there have been a few moments in this life
in my stint as human
in this century
when there has come a knowing
that mind can’t understand

I’m crazy here
trying to explain in words
an intelligence
I can only feel

perhaps what finds me here
is the same longing
that drives all the poets and seekers

we are drops of water
wanting nothing more than to meld back to the sea from which we came

somehow we know
and want to tell you

we were this source
we will be again
we are now
just forgetting
and remembering
all at once

in my world
it’s golden flickers
sparking
over second grade spelling words
through the laugh of the gecko on the wall
in a glance from the green eyes of my long-lost friend

to try to tell you
is like grasping at dust
illumined in sunlight
but if you’ve seen it too
maybe you’ll know
just what it is
that I cannot quite express

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Taking A Pause with Peanut Butter Breath

Dinner’s done, dishes washed, laundry folded, bed sheets changed.

Jeb’s completed his assigned 15 minutes of silent reading. It’s twenty minutes til bedtime and we still have drills and study for tomorrow’s geography, spelling and math tests.

He’s taking a pause, stretched out on my big bed.

He looks at me and pats beside him, “Mom, just come here for a minute.”

Seeing the hesitation on my face, he says with more earnestness, “Come on, I need this.”

Skeptics may suspect he’s trying to wriggle out of the multiple choice questions about his map of Nebraska. I don’t care. He’s thirty days shy of eight, and Jeb’s not going to be asking to cuddle up with me forever. Maybe I need this too.

I settle in at his side and he wraps his arms around me, throwing one long leg over mine.

We’ve been curling up like this since that first day when he moved from my womb to rest his wet cheek on my heart. All the days and nights. Each time our bodies found this comfort spot between us, familiar and grooved.

Except that his shape just keeps changing. The plump toes that used to graze my belly button, now stretch out towards my ankles. And that koala-bear body I could scoop up with one arm to adhere upon my hip, is sixty-five pounds and gaining. Nowadays, if Jeb falls asleep in the car, I have to wake him and walk him up the stairs.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

He gave up on me fifteen pounds back, but these days even the big guys in his life repeat the mantras.

“You’re getting too big now!”

“You’re heavy, I can’t lift you up anymore!”

“Whoa, you’re getting strong…be careful when you wrestle!”

But tonight, there is no rough house. Tonight Jeb asked for pause with me. He’s sidled up in my arms and as I embrace his frame I am amazed to find him delicate. He seems so small. Long, thin arms are hinged toothpicks. His fingers that trace my forehead, feathers. It feels as if I squeeze him too tightly he could break.

His eyes keenly scan my skin, noticing freckles and a scratch on my shoulder.

I feel the shape and weight of him within my arms. I soak in the delicacy of his boyish precipice. I am entwined in his limbs, these appendages that grew within me, cell by cell. This will all soon disappear.

In this, I am alone. He will never know.

Because I smile the mother’s smile. The one that holds the bittersweet. That we love with all our hearts. Body. Soul. Give to let it grow. One day the children will not need us. And this is what we want.

“Can you choke when you’re learning to swallow vitamins?”

His random question is close to my face. His breath, warm and without boundaries, exhaling peanut butter and honey sandwich across my cheeks. For a moment, I think to turn away, but catch myself.  Then breathe it in a little deeper.

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Some Stitches from the Life Soundtrack

Some days the weave is thick with music. The soundtrack of life that threads in the background, stitches moments, solidifies patterns that slowly emerge.

This morning it’s the notes that touch me most. The sounds from the throats of humans. The plucking of strings on a guitar. The harmonies of instruments in rhythm.

These messages, someone’s heartfelt expression. They reach across airwaves to find their place in my ear drums. To beat time with my own heart. Where we are connected. Feeling. Seeking. Reporting what we find.

Top three on the life soundtrack right now: Bon Iver, Feist and Piers Faccini.

Here’s a sample from all three of these incredible humans. May we all find our song and sing it!