A Spark of Life

25 Aug

Klick, klick, klatter skitter scatter slithers slinky

down the stairs head first then in reverse.

Faster and faster thumping the stairs

arching, note-by-note echoing

first to last, then last to first.


When nothing has to be explained,

children giggle pitter patter up the stairs

in happy invisible space where there is no name

for nothing matters, not even the stairs.


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25 responses to “A Spark of Life

  1. ZQ

    August 26, 2013 at 9:28 pm

    me too 🙂 thank you.


  2. ZQ

    August 26, 2013 at 9:27 pm

    With that you put an even bigger smile on my face. I do have a few balls of yarn to roll out from my pockets. 🙂
    This piece is from a chapter in my “bucket list book” (that’s not the title. I feel I have to give it some priority)
    Chapter II Love: Hot Water, Crackers, and Ketchup Soup.


  3. ZQ

    August 26, 2013 at 9:20 pm

    Thank you. Nothing matters with the “right understanding” 🙂
    My children and grandchildren seem to teach me what I had forgotten.


  4. ZQ

    August 26, 2013 at 9:12 pm

    Oh ya, and sometimes going up the down staircase. 🙂
    Thank you.


  5. Sumana Roy

    August 26, 2013 at 1:23 pm

    love the dancing sound………


  6. dsnake1

    August 26, 2013 at 12:03 pm

    ah, getting playful today. 🙂


  7. thoughts220

    August 26, 2013 at 11:04 am

    Happy, light-hearted and touching. I loved it. Especially the second stanza.


  8. Abin Chakraborty

    August 26, 2013 at 7:39 am

    in contrast to us, who are always chasing ladders and stairs of our own…loved the poem.


  9. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 10:26 pm

    Thank you Lisa.


  10. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 10:23 pm

    Thank you Mary…Happy Sunday 🙂


  11. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 10:23 pm

    Thank you WildWomen 🙂


  12. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 10:22 pm

    Thank you for the visit.


  13. Lisa A.Williams

    August 25, 2013 at 9:02 pm

    I remember the days of the slinky and nothing else mattered but the moment. Great poem!


  14. Mary

    August 25, 2013 at 8:31 pm

    Your poem made me hear the sounds of children playing on the stairs. I can hear the klikity-clack of their feet.


  15. Sherry Marr

    August 25, 2013 at 8:01 pm

    I can see and hear it all – slinky and children. Love it!


  16. Gabriella

    August 25, 2013 at 7:58 pm

    We can definitely hear those kids going up and down the stairs!


  17. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 6:07 pm

    me too 🙂


  18. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 6:07 pm

    yes, everything is new and different without comparison.
    Thank you for your comment.


  19. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 6:05 pm

    Yes…as I get older I seem to remember the way back to the stairs 🙂


  20. Ruth

    August 25, 2013 at 5:59 pm

    oh i do love sound poems, and this one seems made for the child in me – wonderful


  21. Nataša Dolenc (@Natasek86)

    August 25, 2013 at 5:54 pm

    there’s a fast pace… everywhere.. it’s important we return to the child within.


  22. brian miller

    August 25, 2013 at 5:39 pm

    to be in the place where nothing matters…to just accept it as a child would and laugh and pitter patter on…its a peaceful place….


  23. dtdeedge

    August 25, 2013 at 5:14 pm

    The depth of the slinky is steeped in humility.
    I am in awe each time I read its story
    Scripted in partial derivatives
    Governed timeless relations.
    The story if humanity pales in that depth.


  24. ZQ

    August 25, 2013 at 5:08 pm

    wow, that does sound like innocent children playing with and learning that… from an object.
    Cool, Thank you.


  25. dtdeedge

    August 25, 2013 at 4:59 pm

    But the slinky is not an individual,
    But an energetic collective.
    They agree to a dance in physic
    And explain the universe
    To this who would ask.



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