Sunday, March 20, 2011

Getting back to the purpose of being with my child

      He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Inwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
            By William Butler Yeats

Lately Mein Spatz and I have been at loggerheads - daily. Both of us fighting for control and building up with resentment and anger. This was not serving us well at all and was even causing me to rethink our dedication to learning with him outside of conventional institutions.
But the I heard this poem here and the tears came flooding.


  1. I loved this poem when I first heard it as well. So beautifully written.

  2. We are having a better day today.
    It started with a major melt-down and a big cuddle and some lovely time connecting.
    Just trying to be there for my boy as big changes course through his body.

  3. That's what mothers are here for.