The Mother of Creativity – The Creativity of Time

waking from the delicious and indulgent fourth trimester
with a full heart and empty womb
my creative power house moves from creating and nourishing life
into creating and nourishing art into fruition…
with words swirling around my mind in rhythmic poetry, faster than i can get out.. almost too fast to grasp and remember.. falling through my fingers like sand

and so the lists begin to grow and grow of things that beg to be made.
and words tumble and fall where they may, if i can catch them in time – in poetry and prose
and much is left to the wind. clutching at ‘oh damn. what was that.. what was i just about to write down.. where did it go…’ 
when a thousand projects begin to find voice and beckon at me to begin
hush now… my arms are full, my tea is cold.. give me time. give me time. there is time.

and all the same, this energy and vigor is a fresh awakening and feels amazing
to be filled with inspiration and too many ideas to capture.
a sugar rush left from the sweet lips of the muse.

but oh, there is time
there is time to sit and do nothing but stare into the ocean blue eyes of my selkie girl.
there is time to sit and let her sleep on me, doing nothing but noticing the weight of her body on mine and the inhale and exhale..
there is time to listen to music and sing it aloud with my big girl.. time to watch her cycle her bicycle. time to appease her begging for face painting
there is time to read another book to him. time to admire his sweet songs he sings to himself.. time to watch his imagination flourish while playing with cars and building with tiles.

there will be time to draw and time to paint. time to create books and websites and knitted things.
there is time for it all to fall right into it’s own place.
where thoughts and ideas may move on to the next person ready to take them on and birth them into the world – the intention released

there is no rush.

this time with a baby whose head still smells like the salty sweet divinity that is unique and healing, and only possessed by the youngest in the universe for such a short amount of time.

right now, there is only time to breathe that scent in
while lists are made
and a future of projects lined up.. just in time for another creative force to sweep through as baby finds her knees and hands crawling across the floor..
just as she finds independence to move freely of me – while all i beg to do is contain her so i can move freely with my inspired action

oh the joys of it all, truly
I look at this time right now with the rosy tint – knowing that one day I will be without a baby at my milky breasts..without a baby in the house at all.. with all the free time in the world to create and do and make and mend.. and I know that I will be grateful for this time of knowing.. this time of knowing how fleeting it all is. This time of allowing myself to just be in it.  How grateful I will be in looking back that I didn’t worry myself with having to be anything other than just here. now.