Just wanted to share this beautiful poem I read in Mothering by Peggy O'Mara
There is time still for sitting in cafes in Paris sipping wine. Time still for going to meet the guru. There is time still. Now I am caring for eternity. Carrying bodies soft with sleep to beds of flowered quilts and pillows. Answering cries deep out of nighttime fears. Buckling shoes. Opening doors. Pretending. My soul now is dwelling in the house of tomorrow. Tomorrow there will be time for long leisurely conversations, for poems to write, and dances to perform. Time still. So I surrender now to them and this, knowing it is they who will teach me how to do it all.
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