head pounding, neck aching, radio blaring
the ride home is a numb blur of
grays and browns, whizzing by
monotonous sounds sliding into one another
and as I take a breath, I’m parked in the drive and –
how did that happen??
slow, savor, see the gifts.
slow and notice breath:
my own miraculous inhale and exhale,
the breath of wind, unseasonably warm that begs the windows be thrown open and the joyous promise of spring,
the divine breath within that invites surrender and offers peace.
savor and enjoy sounds:
the crunch of little feet on packed snow,
the gentle trickle of melting and dirty piles respond to the sun,
child and canine voices carried on the wind, alive with play,
stillness that grows and presses comfortably.
see and receive gifts:
an afternoon lengthening before me,
delight on his face, digging rapturously in the white mounds,
concentration on hers as she enters the lego world to create,
the hope of you, returning home soon.
to slow, to savor, to see is the gift.