Somedays only a Poem Will Do

The Coming of Light

Even this late it happens:

the coming of love, the coming of light

You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,

stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,

sending up warm bouquets of air.

Even this late the bones of the body shine

and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.

-Mark Strand

Weekend Rambling

Finished the Brooklyn Folllies - Paul Auster spins a nimble tale, a postmodern paean that deftly explores human follies. It's a bit too clever for my liking, the loose ends come neatly tied in co-incidental sequences. It doesnt detract the fact that he is such a good writer though.

Also trying to read Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides and feel like I am living in some kind of Greek tragedy except that it is in Detroit. Its very, very good so far. It sings.

Book of the week: Malaysian Maverick Mahathir Mohamad in Turbulent Times by Barry Wain . Will write another post about it.

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Everyone seems to be watching Glee. What is this? I miss being part of popular culture (with the resolute exception of Big Brother). I miss the simple things like being part of a TV series or show, waiting every week for the next installation. Once upon a time M and I used to do TV dinners almost every night. Our favourites were The West Wing, House and Gray's Anatomy (M wasn't too mad about Gray's but for me, it was the droolicious Patrick Dempsey that did it).

Now, there is too much mayhem to have a TV routine. A good weekend is one that is spent in Jungle Gym.
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My maternity break is almost over. Oh, the misery of going back to work. Of driving everyday into the city (did I mention that I work in downtown KL, 10 mins away from KLCC which means perpetual battle with the traffic EVERYDAY).

Oh,if only I had the guts to quit everything and write a novel. If only.

But I need to feed two children.

Cartography

Mother's day weekend. I am not really mad about Mother's Day and all that. As much as mother's pour love, they can also wreck havoc and create serious damage in the lives of their children so I really think all this exulting of all mothers is just a bit much.

I worry about the impact I can potentially have on my boys and can only hope that they grow up into decent, well adjusted adults who live good lives. M has big plans for them, thinking of their careers and universities, etc. For me? I just want them to be absolutely happy.

My gift for them as a mother?

I want to give them choices and possibilities. I see my job as cartographer, I draw the map with all the roads out and they get to choose their path. My aim is to be damn good at cartography so that they have all the right roads before them. What they end doing and how they ultimately lead their lives is in their hands after that.

What do I expect from them?

I expect them to live a good life. That will be their gift to me.