This Is Not A Blog Post
This is not a blog post because who needs one when you have:
The fine breeze rustling the trees like a wake-up fairy.
The big leaf maple’s leaves, giant green dinner plates, holding up the sky.
A sky so blue, you will search for a new word for it, one you won’t find in any book.
The fresh offering pouring in with each inhale: salt water, fir tree, neighbor’s California lilac, a sweetness you can’t name.
This is not a blog post because you have the underwater early morning light on the red roses.
You have the first sip of tea.
You have snap peas, pole beans, corn.
This is not a blog post because the whole offers itself to you, as open as birth itself:
The skin between the world and you grows transparent.
Yes, the rats have eaten most of the snap peas and a raccoon has eaten all the apples, yes your back aches and someone you love may be gone or going.
The whole world offers itself to you, on the back deck, in the early morning salty air.
How is the world offering itself to you today? Do share below!