A little space, a little time

A beautiful day in the hills above Soller, spring was creeping in, the yellow of the mimosa marked the way to Mariana's house. We met the fascinating Tracy. She opened a few wounds of mine I think, for which I am very grateful. We discussed poetry and our lives whilst the boys were given a huge block of clay. Mariana showed them how to make tiles and gave them all the tools they needed. Their output was prolific and they can't wait to see what comes out of the kiln. And I'm fired up too. I have much work to do. And one of the most important jobs is organising myself so I have time to do the things I need and want to do. Enough of all that.

Little Agu had found this space for himself. And for all that I thought he was thinking of sticks and clay and leaves, it seems something else was lurking in there. When I got back, he had made me something so beautiful I was shaken to my bones with emotion. I won't describe it here totally, because it's very personal, but I will roughly translate the poem that he wrote with it. I am astounded and proud and overwhelmed by his maturity and sensitivity. And wisdom. At seven. Unbelievable.

A love poem

This gift comes from the heart.
They are so delicate, they can break. Mine and yours.
Like butterflies, they are born, they reproduce and they die.