Gray skies, leaning towards white.
Solid cloud cover canvas
On a rainy, wet morning
In July.
Mist rises over treetops,
And even the birds are hushed
As if I’m not the only one who needs a gentle start
on a rainy, wet morning
In July.
Much to do. Much to do.
There is always. Always.
So much to do.
And I sit.
Close my eyes.
Wait a bit. Just a bit.
Just a minute. Maybe three.
And what do I see,
In my mind’s eye rising?
Faces. One by One.
In my mind’s eye rising.
Friends, Family,
Connections of every kind.
And a word for each as they rise.
Peace … Healing … Comfort … Strength …
The simplest of prayers.
The simplest of gifts.
I make it so complicated,
And it doesn’t need to be.
It doesn’t need to be.
A name. A word.
And all that it contains.
No explanation necessary.
No pleading intercessory.
No hand-wringing, heart-wrenching, long-beseeching …
Not today, anyway.
Before I dash off to the day,
And all that is waiting.
I can wait.
I can listen.
I can see.
And know that I am heard.
Might be the most productive moment of my day.
Thanks for that. I needed that.
And I am off to the day … So much better for the waiting.
❤️ Cath