As I walk slowly along
The sun flecked wood road, a large
Fritillary comes to rest
On my naked shoulder, then
Flies in a little spiral
And comes back again and
Again to my shoulders and
Arms, fluttering over me
Like the souls on Orphic tombs.
This never happened to me
Before, and I feel my flesh
Has suddenly become sweet
With a metamorphosis
Kept secret even from myself.

Kenneth Rexroth, “The Orphic Soul,” The Complete Poems of Kenneth Rexroth (Copper Canyon Press, 2004)

“Jason, what the hell did you do?”

“Piper, language. The kids are present.”

“Why is there a cyclone above our house?”

“… would you believe me if I said we were playing catch?”

“I cannot believe you taught Jackson how to control the weather. He’s only nine.”

“In my defense, it was Angela’s idea.”

“She’s three!”

- taken by Thomas, eight, who was actually the mastermind of it all

today i noticed that life is very short. life is so short that we must follow our dreams. that we must kiss the person we love. that we must say hello to strangers. eat that creamy chocolate bar we were craving. leave our friends and family with hugs and kisses instead of just saying goodbyes. we should look at the sky. gaze at the stars and count it too. smell the flowers, pick it and give it to your neighbours. look at our lovers face and memorize the twinkle in their eyes when they talk about their day. call our mothers. call our old friends. dance the night away till your feet give up. enjoy the little things before it’s too late. before it’s too late to enjoy life.
—  S.Bashir