I am watching the morning light
squint through the blinds,
a brief flurry of dust settling,
a little body breathing,
unselfconsciously. I want to
give thanks correctly for such a gift,
hands folded with humble devotion,
bent slight as a reed towards the glass,
sending this soft song outward
and away.
I want to remember how fragile
and perfect a moment is,
how all of life's frenzy and storm can slip
into stillness,
how days pass like clouds, airy and unnoticed,
how my heart can curve into the small comma
of her body, echoing warmly the sea that we came from,
the velvet of cheek against cheek,
the gaggle of eyelashes and earlobes,
how the smallest bud can be
bigger than anything that ever came before it
