Poems From The Porch
From There to Here
It is chilly enough to wear a sweatshirt this morning.
I’m wearing the one with a big daisy on it,
a present that I gifted myself for my birthday this year.
My body smiles when I wear it.
The wind catcher on the chime is spinning
the way I used to as a child on the playground
wanting to experience the sway of disequilibrium.
A single dove rushes past
in a hurry to get from here to there.
I wonder what treasures there has for the dove.
I remember when my first child emerged into the world
and the impact he had on my life.
Even at the age of 27,
I was aware of the benefits of present moment awareness
and thought that I was actually practicing it—
that is until my son was born.
It was then that I was truly introduced
to the meaning of being here now.
This infant required my undivided attention, moment-to-moment,
in a way I had never experienced.
And now, I have completely lost any sense of there.
I am not going anywhere but here.
A dear friend recently asked me
what my dreams were for retirement.
It was a kind question,
but meaningless to me now.
The marking of time has dissolved in the eternal present,
but do not mistake this for despair.
Liken it, instead,
to a beautiful passage from the Hebrew scriptures:
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your Presence?
If I go to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.”
The dove is flying to somewhere else.
Maybe here feels like too much for her in this moment.
I hope she stops long enough
to listen to the soft, reassuring whisper
of the Presence that can never leave her.
As Love coos Her lullaby to me,
I am content to roost here, now.
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