I contain multitudes
Of course I didn’t.
But I feel like I wasted a month.
A few years.
Of course I didn’t -(I don’t believe in that, tempting as it can be)
Oh – I may not have made the most of it – of them –
Still, I’ve had them, moment by moment,
obscure unintended unintentional oblivious as they seem.
I have hurt and honored and honested.
I have lied awake, sweating and doubting.
And I have slept.
Is that so wrong? I have a judgment about that.
It doesn’t look at all the way I thought.
(But ok. Herein lies truth. Herein lies poetry. Herein lies… )
Running Past by Robin OK
I’m not sure if I am standing
but I feel faint and dizzy
the room spins,
as the world tilts,
as death hangs out in the dining room
shuffling papers on the table.
I witness daily fading.
The land of the living feels very far away.
I want to run.
I want to seek fun –
people and activities.
I want to walk in sunshine and fresh air.
How can I have courage at a time like this?
How can I wait?
How can I wait for God?
For impending death?
How can I know that strength will come?
That is ground will hold my weight?
How can I bear wasting my life in this manner?
Aren’t there more important things needing to be done?
How can I trust,
what I cannot do on my own?
Can I possibly do it through waiting?
getting out of the way?
allowing this to be the plan?
Live into surrender, when it’s so unbearable?
I have seen many things before now.
I have never been abandoned.
There have been times I did not wait,
I know them well,
they turned out badly.
And so, I will wait,
I will see the goodness of what is behind
and especially right now.
and so, having done all I can,
way too woozy to walk.
This, my friends, I have suddenly realized,
IS what courage looks like…
on any given day on earth.
Hang on, little tomato
life is for you,
And then tomorrow comes
The stars have disappeared, for now
Sunrise has given us a beautiful newly fresh canvas
to adorn with the colors of our
adventures in living
we are here with our morning routine
And a fresh cup of coffee that tastes new to this day
We check the weather
We talk to the trees
We give thanks for our breath
and move into this gift called living
Where every day is an adventure
full of miracles
Once we wake up
and choose to see the magic
of the cardinal that sits
on our windowsill
staring us right in the eyes
we delight in
the tingling expectation
of visiting friends for dinner
we shake off the ghosts of last nights discontent
nothing ever goes to waste
the best is always yet to come
some of our juiciest days are just around this next bend
Everything is grace…
if we believe