We're a little late this morning.
I walk to the car barefoot,
carrying my socks and shoes,
barely noticing
the fresh cool dew on the grass.
No delays in driving;
I drop my daughter off
in time for her class.
Then I step out (shoes on)
and
o-p-e-n
my attention
to the world.
A quiet breath of welcome greets me.
I feel the soft kiss
of radiant morning sunshine
warm against my skin,
the soft cool stirrings of
the airy ocean in which I move.
I smell the subtle background fragrance
of sun-warmed earth and plants.
An oasis of shade, green leaves above
whispering intermittently in the breeze.
Sweet sharpness of blackberries,
plucked from their protective brambles.
I am home,
contentedly cradled
in my mother's womb.
copyright Barbara Showalter 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment