Grace and Peace to you.
I don’t need to learn to levitate,
or want to turn to pure flame like the saints.
Here’s holiness enough for me:
to kindle gratitude like a heartbeat,
gratitude that is its own heaven,
gratitude for for morning and its breath,
for food as it bows its head and closes its eyes,
for the feel of my hand against my face,
for friends whose distance can’t diminish
the love they’ve left with me,
for breath and bone and sky and stone,
for each moment, every even dull moment
full of Being’s very wonder.
I’d like to be a bird on a wire
singing its guts out for no great reason other
than being thankful to be singing,
this very day.
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes