I was looking back over the order in which we have explored our words these last few months, enjoying the progression. There is sense in the progression for me. I look back over words from some of my previous years and see a similar progression. So, some meandering thoughts from me today on settling into this order that might be the beginnings of a poem.
Know the truth that sits at this table with you
waiting for coffee and a bagel.
Be present to the twittering song from birds
perched on the string of lights stretching across the alley,
the hum of bee's wings in potted mounds of winter blooms.
Pause. Think. Listen. Selah.
Let faith fill the frame reflecting in the panes of glass.
Be intent on missing nothing. Find delight.
Search for it. Take it, like Turkish sweets or your waiting croissant.
Be mindful of the window washer, his cargo pants
stuffed with rags. Admire his slow, steady progress,
the way he wipes the rubber blade after each wet swipe
and wait for the sun to spill through the glass.
Sip your steaming mug.
Bask in the simplicity of this moment.
Don't be afraid to shine,
a bold, quiet, confident shimmer
sparked from the gold inside.