More of us

This reflection was launched when I read that Holy Women, Holy Men might instead be labeled A Great Cloud of Witnesses.  It captured what I sometimes forget, yet somehow always have known: There are indeed more of us.

It seems there are more of us

Than I thought,

More of us

Who pay attention

To the birds;

More of us

Who pay attention

To the sun,

As it moves through

The day,

As it comes in and out

Of clouds,

As it slants its light just so

On the backyard lawn

Before it sets,

Only to rise again

Tomorrow.

There are more of us

Who notice

Such things.

Rain in the night

This week has convinced me, once again, that everyone needs a witness, a listener to the song each of us is singing, whether we sing it well already, or whether it is simply a practice session, for now.

Rain in the night

Wet sidewalks this morning.

The cardinal sings

His spring song.

The robins hop hopeful

For worms.

We added new pussy willows

To the front table.

The weather map shows

Slightly higher temperatures.

There were turnings this week.

We are spending the weekend

In Denver,

Hopeful for spring

As the robins are,

Hopeful  for

More signs of new life.

Witness to love

Having to arrive early to see my now-consultant allows me to witness other things... like this woman with four, then five children in the waiting room.  She holds them on loving loose tether, but still, tight enough.  She is amazing to watch.

The woman sits and waits

As I sit and wait.

She waits with two in a double stroller,

A bouncy four year old,

An eight year old.

As I overhear conversation,

Only one is her child.

As she waits

She holds a container

Of Cheerios,

Doles them out

One at a time.

She addresses each child

Individually

And specifically

And lovingly.

I imagine she waits

For the mother

Of the other three.

It turns out

I am wrong.

Her daughter comes out

With the therapist

Just before I am to go in.

The woman leaves,

All five children in tow.

I am amazed.

And I continue

Amazed.