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Gratefulness
At first we just say flower. How thrilling it is to name. Then it’s aster. Begonia. Chrysanthemum.
We spend our childhood learning to separate one thing from another. Daffodil. Edelweiss. Fern. We learn
which have five petals, which have six. We say, “This is a gladiolus, this hyacinth.” And we fracture the world into separate
identities. Iris. Jasmine. Lavender. Divorcing the world into singular bits. And then, when we know how to tell
one thing from another, perhaps at last we feel the tug to see not what makes things different, but
what makes things the same. Perhaps we feel the pleasure that comes when we start to blur the lines—
and once again everything is flower, and by everything, I mean everything.
From hush (Middle Creek Publishing & Audio, 2020). 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