It is 2 pm
on a hot and humid Sunday
in June.
I am cleaning walls
and floors,
cabinets
and doors,
and laying newly steamed rugs
in a new place
of one floor living
more suitably down-sized
from three floor struggling
for my disabled son
and aging me.
My husband
for the past twenty four years
calls with Happy Father’s Day!
This, like an anniversary ritual,
surprising reminder between us two Dads
not sure how we are doing
together.
But, better than apart.
Surprised,
I admitted
my failure to remember
perhaps because,
for me,
for us?
everyday is fathers’ day
and night
of secularized care taking
As every mothers’ day
and night
may become sacred care giving
As schools of male
and female,
more precisely male or female,
fish fail to remember
wet climates breathe water
in and out again,
care filling
and care emptying,
care giving
and care taking
within mundane
everyday habitual atmosphere
on this living
enculturing Earth
Which lives healthier
as we become more everyday
compassionate care givers
and takers
listening in
and speaking out
for our present
past
and future Earth
and EarthTribes,
Interdependent species
Organic holonic bodies
Extending multicultural families
Humane repopulations
at appropriately grateful scale
for peaceful
nutritional
energetic, yet care-full,
EarthJustice
Sometimes my unlanguaged son
sounds like a constipated chicken
trying to lay a great egg.
Yet he also roars
like an anticipating rooster
toward the light,
raising and praising east
and up and out
and west,
eager for this new caretaking
every Earth day.
gdill52 