• Rev. Ani

Poems From The Porch



Waiting For Debris


When I opened my journal this morning, I saw that I had inadvertently smushed a love bug when last I closed it. Poor bug. Its final chapter was written in an instant when the book closed on its life. I noticed that it had not yet connected with a mate, and I felt a little sad for that.


It makes me think of the need for preparation—not in a girl scout kind of way—but rather in the awareness of the value of each moment. I don’t want to prepare so that I can stay safe. No, I am not focusing on being equipped.


Instead, the preparation to which I am referring is the practice of appreciation and the recognition of impermanence. This type of readiness enables me to see the flight of the dragonfly that just traversed the yard and to relish the gift of my husband’s brief presence on the porch a few moments ago.


There is a hurricane coming our way this evening. One could think of this as a time of preparation, but it feels more like waiting for debris.


Anticipating debris can be a way of life rather than a hurricane phenomenon; but that doesn’t serve anyone. Debris will happen after every storm, and so will regeneration. Life is a cycle of growth, destruction, and new growth.


And so, here I sit to honor this moment and my part in it. The love bug was here and now is gone. I don’t want to wait for debris or even, new growth. There is fullness in simply being here now.

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