A Witchs Vavavavoom

As if the house had landed on a witch’s vavavavoom, the door’s ajar, and my boy had alerted me… surely tornadoes increase the velocity of speed of a mom, to zero in on, a three year old. Forget the broom. Hear the prophet speak of pleasant things. The boundary has fallen in pleasant places. If ignored the blessing clears at the speed of light, taken from the bright eyes of infinity. Listen to the kid, not the seven dwarfs, nor the munchkins… “Mom, come here.” The witch’s broom, stored away. Clearly, at this point, you think me a witch! C’mon! Teachable moment…parents lean in. When the dumb speak… clearly, I mean, when your son is willing to share ANYTHING, just like E. F. Hutton…stop the presses, lean in and listen, especially if you want him to trust you with future things, or trust you at all… so I’m on a run…still my heart… What will this boy impart? Are we invested in Oz? A side note, just because…we brought him to see a 3-D short…the witch cackled…he screamed! Back on Oahu, Aloha…the door is cracked, minah birds minding theirs or someone else’s business, as they are gossipers, given to mimicry. The world has opened, the sun is shining, as the boy points at a plenary rainbow. Oh my heart…oh my boy… I know they must grow, but they forget their moms when they marry, but moms don’t forget or they shouldn’t - the promise, the flood of memories… I’m over the rainbow!!