Sunday Counts

Sunday is a day when the darkness tries very hard to build a thornbush around her Day. It seems that the deliberate air is sucking out this joy, this hope we hold for Sunday. My heart stirs every part of me, awakens a sense of longing that can only be quenched by complete trust. This trust musnt be breached by intruders who take every ounce of air and strangle the light and warmth from this fire called Sunday….

I feel deep passion. I feel deep pain. I feel deep love. As I feel deep contempt for those who rush to breach my sanctuary and pop my bubble of bliss. Someday I’ll take my shaking hands and press so hard against their confidence and snap that thin divide between my absolute love and my absolute hate for mankind, as she shrills with delight when she sees how it irks me to have him around when he fails every attempt at being selfless, and foolishly swallows that facade he creates when the numbness sets in as his limbs and his brain can’t walk hand in hand. Only an hour exists between clear vision and Jekyll & Hyde. Outside all the mayhem cannot reach within this sanctuary. Peace is within her grasp, or such she seeks. Just harmony, music, playfulness and a mindfulness for the needs of others…

This is Sunday fare, while cooking up a storm and being a humble yet sassy Divalicious Cook, I step onto this canvas and kill it in my kitchen while outside our door in hot pursuit, lies in wake, the cursing, the language, I don’t want my 3 year old hearing as he jives to old music with grown up uncles and neighbours who take this day and wring all the beauty out of this family day and leave me no choice but to open my mouth and chastise the freedom they greedily grab, when my back is turned and I’m singing in my kitchen with pan and spoon, just hoping this day will take a turn and my spoon would turn into a wand and my gates would be high to keep them out, so my fare may be eaten with want and passion that far supersedes this ache I have for a shift in the climate of our place called home. A place where my children can laugh and be at ease, instead of worrying that nothing has changed….

 

To translate this page copy our web address, click on the language you want, paste our URL at the top of the page and click search.

Advertisements