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Gratefulness
How did I come to be this particular version of me, and not some other, this morning of purple delphiniums blooming, like royalty—destined to meet these three dogs asleep at my feet, and not others— this soft summer morning, sitting on her screened porch become ours, our wind chime, singing of wind and time, yellow-white digitalis feeding bees and filling me— and more abundance to come: basil, tomatoes, zucchini. What luck or fate, instinct, or grace brought me here?— in shade, beneath hidden stars, a soft, summer morning, seeing with my whole being, love made visible.
Posted by kind permission of the poet.
I grew up in a family that did not tell the story. I am listening…
a body is always a body individual or collective (whole or in many pieces) alive…
Let plain things please you again and every ordinary Monday. Bean soup in a white…
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We are delighted to announce the release of Kristi Nelson’s book Wake Up Grateful