embracing the chaos
I stick my head inside my son’s room.
Has a bomb gone off?
scraps of paper,
shoes, trading cards.
Action figures stare up at me.
Has he even been working on this?
Above the clutter,
He’s on the bed,
“Dude, get to work! Done in twenty minutes or no swimming!”
Eight years earlier this boy on the bed is
strapped to my stomach, wide eyed, taking in the chaos,
wonder of a third-world airport.
Ukrainian guards in high hats – “He needs his visa.”
Questions at the gate – “I thought we had everything.”
Confusion – “He says we don’t.”
Nervous glances between his mother and I.
From the hallway I step into his mess.
“Come on. I’ll give you a hand.”
hops off the bed,
gathers up an armful of super heroes
and drops them into the toy box.