I woke the other morning with the word tenderness on my mind.  And I thought, this is what I have been missing recently, what I want in my life.  I get caught up in the details of demands – of parenting, working, partnering, living with fullness, and building meaningful relationships.  It is easy for me to focus on the task even when my  heart’s intention is for connection with those around me.  With a frown of concentration I listen to my loved ones and try to be present; I clarify the words to make certain I understand their meaning. I stare and poke and investigate.  I analyze, and focus, and then growing weary of the cognitive work, I withdraw, feeling I need rest.  And something feels amiss.  And it this – tenderness.  Soft, forgiving, compassionate, chuckling, affectionate tenderness.  For others;  for myself.

I want tenderness

in my life.

Dripping, sliding between and

through the cracks of

expectation and accountability.

I want tenderness

to pool at the bottom,

a rich molasses-layer

of sweet laughter and

sloppy delight.