Spring sings its loveliness,
warming the stiffened boughs,
the hardened soil,
the sleepy souls.
Bees are humming a hymn,
birds are fluting the skies,
the sun is soothing my skin.

The green of the grass
glows yellow
with the pleasure of it
as does my soul.

This is my worship today,
a full-body joining
with the hymn of life
that spring is singing
in my garden.

The important thing
is to be here.

The important thing
isn’t to write,
or to think profound thoughts,
or compose words of prayer

but to touch the sand
with my hand,
to feel the soft salt
of the sea breeze on my skin

and to breathe,
just to breathe
the air.

This is not an ordinary life.
This is the greatest gift of all.
I will value it before I lose it,
before my limbs or my mind seize.

I will remember the beauty
that went into my making,
the love that holds my heart
so I can come in and go out
in peace.

My life
is an altar
where God and the ordinary meet.

I love this weather,
sunshine, then heavy rain,
then sunshine again,
glistening on all
the wet surfaces.

It makes me aware
of all the energy out there,
changing and moving
without our direction.

It feels alive.

I am blessed with sun.
I am blessed with rain.

Anything is possible.

You can smell autumn
in the air,
the background spice
of browning leaves,
as evocative
as a childhood photo,
as comforting
as toast.

I have warm slippers
to slip my feet in
as I pad to the dark kitchen.
There is a slice of lemon
in my glug of sparkling water.
The house hums its night song
around me.
The pleasure of little things
is big as a mountain.