The Bedroom

It’s a serene place that I like to retreat to;
There are no loud little minions roaming about.
There is a comfy bed that I like to plop onto.
The temperature is just right. 

I look around at the adornments on the walls, and transport to those places.
A school of Athens.
A bouquet of pink roses.
A Japanese geisha.
And of course, pictures of a most beloved wedding day.

I reminisce about these dreams.
As I ponder, I reflect on these places.
These people.
These things.

They’re all inviting me to swim from one to another,
Jumping from travel to adventured travel,
Amidst the muted and matte lovely green walls.
I dip and dive and let my mind wander.

My husband works quietly at his desk in the corner.
His lookout is a window to the street,
Staring at trees and neighboring houses 
and letting the sunlight shine in.

“The clouds are sexy today,” my love says, smiling at me. 
And like an inside joke, he reminds me of a quote 
All so familiar from an Asian philosopher
That once again makes nature too, familiar.

“Indeed,” I respond, smiling back.

Then, as I’m staring at a golden Christ on a brown wooden crucifix,
I hear cries of the baby and screams of the toddler in the next room over.

I come out of my dreams.

And at last I’m back to reality.
Because although the walls are a muted green color,
This bedroom does all but mute the sounds
Of the nearby reality of my duty to go and love the children.