Parenting Haze – A Poem

The first 24 hours, a dream
Of downy softness anchoring
The haze from the drip, drip
Am I ready?

The first 3 months, a gauntlet
Of liquids leaking, not sleeping
A form of hazing
Will I survive?

The first year, a tornado
Of becoming a talker, walker
Hazardous trial and error
Am I doing it right?

The next 21 years, a crystal ball
Wanted to predict and protect
Hazy edges turn sharp
Cutting off my questions

The hazmat of parenting
When can I stop worrying?

This poem was written for Patrick’s Pic and A Word Challenge #179 – Haze. I am on a streak completing Patrick’s beautiful word and photo prompts. Last week was a “rush” post but I didn’t want to miss his prompt!

This week, I had a bit of fun with his word “haze”, repeating the “haz” in different forms in this poem. Gina at dVerse talked about a “hum” in our lives (check out Gina’s poem beautifully illustrating this) however my life right now (and for quite sometime) can be more described as having a “haze” not a hum. Maybe it the lack of sleep or the rush of our daily schedule, but this haze, this film, covers my view of the world. Sometimes it obscures parts I can’t or don’t want to see. Sometimes it colors conversations (like a sepia filter) and changes the meaning of those connections. Sometimes it is as thick as a pea soup fog that I must pull myself through. Sometimes it is words, phrases and ideas that overcome my mind until they can be captured in lines of verse. I don’t know if I’m friends with this haze but I’m thankful for its inspiration for this poem.

©️ iido 2019