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By Sunitha Mary Mookken
A butterfly kiss,
A finch on a bough,
Iridescent sphere, a shimmering soap bubble.
Zephyr that ruffles my hair,
Rifles through my pockets,
Carries a baby’s gurgle too.
Pillowy puri that floats on my plate,
Golden filigreed bookmark for you.
Soaring, pastel paper kite,
Gathered close by tiny marshmallow clouds.
A froth of fern beckons in the breeze,
Steam from my coffee answers the call.
Lattice of lace, some grace,
That feather touch of life,
That we all seek.
Refuge
Weave a quilt of safety
Wrap you tight
The murmur of my voice
Your lullaby
Croon to you and cradle
Swaddle in warmth and encircle
Martello between you and the world
Bio: After years of flailing between work and home, Sunitha Mary Mookken can now just be herself. Storyhouse, The Good Within The Khaos, Plato’s Caves, Valiant Scribe, Winnow Literary, Instant Noodles, Macrame Literary, Scars Publications, Leafline Magazine, Creative Writing Academy of Greece, Wordpeace, Poem Stellium and Origami Poetry have published Sunitha.
Author’s Note: Refuge was written for my babies. Except they are no longer babies – one started college this year and the other, middle school. Sometimes you wish they would stay little forever so you can put socks on them, read to them and tuck them safe and warm into bed each night, with a prayer. A long time back, I read this book where God comes down to earth again, lives among us and this time his name is Mr. Golightly. When the rest of us go for a walk outside, it is to enjoy
nature. When Mr. Golightly goes for a walk, he creates nature. Flowers spring up along his path, bunnies come hopping to see him and birds and butterflies fly around him.
