by way of example

meditation + gratitude, 10.31.19

My husband comes in the door, breathless,
cheeks flushed and hair wild from fast bike ride,
wearing the delirious delight of a kid-like smile.

He calls to our younger daughter, Quick!
Get your coat on! I have something to show you. Oh —
and bring your jar of acorns. I’ll get the sun seeds.

Our daughter, the one nicknamed Squirrel,
tends all the creatures in our city plot, a tiny Eve
in a small patch of imperfect Paradise: she daily scatters
seeds and nuts to the hungry, knows their markings
and their calls, speaks to them with quiet awe.

Everyone is welcome in her eyes : the possum we call Seamus,
who munches ticks all Spring and lumbers through
some nights with his moon eyes, the fuzz-butt bees
and lilting butterflies we’ve tried to tempt from extinction
with fruit trees, berries, and a riot of unruly flowers,
the keening summer nighthawks and bats who eat mosquitoes,
and thick quick spiders who terrify and fascinate,
Milo the regal orange kitty who runs to her,
the scurrying shrew who lives in a hole next to our back step,
whose tiny dark body moves, as if on a track,
along homemade…