Telepathy poem...

I only recently read this poem. It was on the The Writer's Almanac. It really struck a chord with the mother in me and caused me to reflect on those times when I pause to think about just how much of what matters to me is what matters to my kids (perhaps very little). And about how incredibly connected, at all levels of being, I am to my little boy and girl. More so than I could ever have imagined.

              Telepathy

Today I explained telepathy to you,
       and telephone, and television,
               on the way to day care,

and I said, sometimes when I'm at work
       I'll think of you,
             and if I could send you that thought with my mind,

you'd get it right then,
      and maybe you'd smile, stopping a moment at whatever
            you were doing, or maybe not

but just going on with it, making a mask out of paper plates
       and orange and green cards
              with markers and scissors and paste,

or screaming circles in the gym
       either being a monster
             or being chased by a gang of them, but still you'd get

the picture I was beaming
       and you'd brighten inside and flash me something back,
              which I'd get, where I was, and smile at.

That's telepathy, I said
      pulling into the parking lot,
             looking at you in the mirror.

Michael Dennis Browne from You Won't Remember This