A F L O A T

Not a picture had I seen
Carrying in first boxes
Was my discovery day
In the living room
Staring beyond windows
So many windows
Looking up at the ceiling
Chandeliers I would never reach
So much space
My nightmares come true
How would I stop this place
From talking to itself?

Children arrived with toys
Stopping in the foyer
They felt like visitors
Looking up at the stairs
So much space
Their dreams come true
How could they fill their space
With noise and stuff?

Standing outside I stared
Chlorine air filled my senses
Salt poured from my eyes


“I know this is not my home but because You have placed us here I will make it so even though I don’t yet know how. They don’t all know how to swim but here they will learn. They will learn individually. They will learn together. They will learn with me and without me. We will invite others and teach them too. Someday when we leave please help me remember this prayer, that the evidence be seen by their confident strokes in the shallows and depth of life, that in wisdom they be guided to remember when to rest and float on their backs, that in vulnerability they reach out for me without hesitation, that in friendship they playfully splash oblivious to bystanders, that they find their purpose, jump in with excitement and move forward fearlessly to discover how long they can hold their breath before coming up for air to challenge self-limitations again and again while tirelessly building the muscles to stand their ground wherever they go. Amen.”


Carrying children on our backs is not only visual art but reality. It always seemed to me it should be something akin to floating but in a world infiltrated with gravitational materialities carrying children becomes heavy and living becomes a battle where we must overcome the urge to drown.

The sense of sinking reminds us of the invisible waters we are now being held in, of our ability to float and of our strength to swim in the purposed direction of love, to carry our children and to assist anyone who reaches out their hands to us for help.

May the waters of home direct our feet on the solid grounds of love