Sometimes I wake up with my heart
already full of uninvited feelings:
blind rage, rank despair.
Sometimes I look into the mirror
through a blur of grief
and hardly recognize myself.
But outside in the garden
I find a morning glory blossom,
tender and fresh as the new day,
and a young boy walking past the house
on his way to day camp down the street
is singing.
Then I remind myself that
there are beautiful things
in this broken world.
You won't be here forever.
Love what you can.
August 2019
already full of uninvited feelings:
blind rage, rank despair.
Sometimes I look into the mirror
through a blur of grief
and hardly recognize myself.
But outside in the garden
I find a morning glory blossom,
tender and fresh as the new day,
and a young boy walking past the house
on his way to day camp down the street
is singing.
Then I remind myself that
there are beautiful things
in this broken world.
You won't be here forever.
Love what you can.
August 2019
RSS Feed
