Balance

"It's all a matter of balance", he said as he looked around.
Easy for him to say as he sashays through his days,
no toddlers tugging him off balance, no
array of tasks to keep home and hearth running
and babies thriving, endless chores for ones too small
for independence. Even the way he said it was a
rebuke, censure embedded in his words.

"Balance", I muttered. "I'll show you balance."
Babies awakened with song, danced around, kissed on both cheeks, (Always
kiss on both cheeks for balance. It shapes them right.),
dressed in colorful clothes, fed farm food cut small for them,
caught doing things right and fed delight in large doses,
freed to spend their days in what catches their fancy and
those who might criticize or castigate kept at bay, far away.
I don't tell them to have balance, I let them
find their balance and stand enthralled when they do.
That's balance.


This is in response to Victoria Slotto's excellent info and prompt on Balance over at dVerse Poets in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft. Check it out and join in.