Lucky enough to have a beach within walking distance,
to have a bowlful of beans on the table,
to use my breath and my words to read Ramona Forever aloud at 9:14pm,
asking, are you both still awake?
Lucky to light a candle in sweet silence,
to stare into a mirror of cut glass made by a daughter,
my daughter, to live in a house small enough
I can hear them breathing from here.
I am lucky to know friends who write books,
who are writing books, making podcasts,
so many friends, hard at work!
I am lucky to use three cups of whole milk
and three tablespoons butter when making the beans.
I can buy one quarter loaf of sourdough bread —
we are lucky to have bread,
I think, I am lucky to watch my plants grow,
each new shoot a victory, a high five, a triple piroutte.
Kevin writes, the thing we think we need to get rid of is the very thing we need to wake up.
I have the silken luxury of flipping back and forth and back again
the pages of this beautiful book.
I try to listen well,
to offer a shiny thing when needed,
to build and tend a good fire,
to respond to the email when I’m able.
Hold your applause.
Prayer hands.