Not so much a poem as a prayer. Not so much a prayer as a whispered thanks. Inspired by Reid Carpenter’s “9 October 2017.”
I started today with a strip of sun against a dark sky.
I started with the sound of thudding feet, the tingle-cold of a Kenyan dawn, the huffing breath of a mile run.
I started with a cat in my kitchen, languidly bumping its nose against my leg, submitting to a pat, a scratch, a pet — always hopeful for a tasty snack.
I started with matcha and overnight oats, filled to bursting with chia seeds, toasted coconut flakes, slivers of almonds.
I started with the words of Paul and Nouwen and the misty morning light, snuggled beneath a blue shuka on a large porch.
I started with my nephew cooing from the confines of a small screen, his smile sudden and bright and too beautiful to bear.
I started the day with grace. May I walk forward in that promise.