When the first light
of morning snow
sparkles in the eyes 
of your small children
you crumple up 
your daily schedules
and sweep aside
your firmly-held plans;
you dig out the 
mittens
and scarves
and fuzzy hats with ears;
you cram
double-socked feet
into stiff rubber boots
and pull coat sleeves
over pajamas;
you stomp
out into the crackling air
like arctic explorers
and throw your bodies
onto the 
glittering ground;
you make angels
and tiny men
and footprints
and mountains,
you catch 
melting fairies 
on your eyelashes 
and you chase 
each other
with arms full
of lumpy snowballs and
bellies full of giggles;
and then you tumble
inside
in a wave of soggy
coats and drippy gloves
and thaw 
your rosy smiling cheeks
in cocoa steam.

© Vixen Lea 2020

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This morning I played with my children in the first snow of the season instead of logging on to my son’s first grade morning meeting. (Our enthusiasm may have been a bit over-stated — I mean, you could still see the grass blades poking up and the streets were pretty slushy, but first snow is First Snow!)

So what is normally a stressed and mildly-frantic morning routine – trying to get a resistant 7-year-old motivated to stare at his classmates on a screen AGAIN – today turned into fun and rejuvenating family time. It was wonderful to see my kids smiling and laughing; and it was exactly what I needed to soothe my own anxious inner child as well.

Sometimes I think we just need to remember to follow our hearts in whatever direction brings us the most joy, even if that means that we put off those mundane responsibilities for a bit. It’s not always an easy thing to do; Saying Yes to Joy. But I believe it’s almost always the RIGHT thing. My son and I will get to that first-grade morning work eventually (or not). He feels seen and I feel connected. And that is what matters.

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This poem was originally written for the December writing prompt in Being Known, a small but mighty literary publication on Medium.com.