She works as an executive,
dresses like a bohemian,
but she’s not vegan.
She likes a juicy steak from time to time.
She lights candles in her office,
meditates during her lunch break,
brings organic fruit from a neighbour’s orchard for her staff,
waters the plants in the hallway.
Sometimes she digs her hands into a pot,
smells the soil on her fingers.
Employees confide in her,
and sometimes she grieves with them.
Everyone suffers from time to time.
Occasionally, one will bring a dying houseplant to her,
and she nurtures it back to health.
She lives modestly,
a small house with a big yard,
a garden with vegetables,
dream catchers over her children’s beds.
The bath shower works,
though she never uses it.
She prefers a good soak,
with soft music and spicy tea,
sometimes with wine.
She teaches her children
that a warm bath
can ease their suffering,
provide a calming space in their hearts,
solve most of their dilemmas.
At the community park,
her little boy goes exploring,
stumbles into a beehive.
He is stung more than a dozen times,
runs frantically to his mother,
trailed by angry bees.
Tears on his cheeks, he cries,
Mama, Mama, I…I…I…
need a BATH!