Three Star Night

The little ones, with their little hands

clasping my ankles, my jeans, my wrists

They are little, but they are many.

I toss my purse to the ground by the door and manage to make

three steps

into the room

before their little bodies block me.

By now, there are two, one wrapped around each leg

Standing on my feet, their arms encircling my thighs

and gripping tightly.

Three more encumber my fingers, wrists, arms

And I don’t know how many more

with wide, glistening eyes

just staring

vying for my attention.

At this point, I find that I am quite immobilized

and can move on no further-

not to my bed in the other room, or 

even the couch two feet away.

These tiny cares

the nagging of my mind

the quiet doubts

the restrictions and the responsibilities.

From my mind, they sprung up, fully armed

and ready to wage battle.

They were little, but they are many.

Oh, how fast they grow up.

A man named Christian once told me about a cross at the top of the hill

where his burdens slid off of his back

But that hill is a long journey’s away

And I, stationary, barely standing, am in my living room