Évocation #4 Gratitude

Gifted a day for being blessed and blessing others,
Unsure and insecure, tentative, doubtful,
I shy away from curiosity, wishing to find solace
in any familiarity. No comfort there.

Nothing is in its right place.
Nothing invites approachability.
So, wary, I carefully lift my gaze to
the next task, the next drawer, the next person,
the next act of living in this new state.

A constant guiding voice talks me through each mundane activity:
drink more water, wash your hands, take time in the shower, waste less water, conserve energy,
open windows, close doors, seek fresh air, avoid smoke, limit air conditioning, filter,
eat greens, don’t skip meals, attend to health, chew mindfully,
make the effort to live as he insisted,
behave gratitude until you believe.
Trust friends, rely on memories,
talk incessantly, repeating stories, then repeat.
When you are done, repeat the process.

A colourful reminder arrives - “ten days”.
So long? So short? Feeling like forever or no time at all.
Didn’t time stop? 10 days? Really?
Count the days in photos.

A day in Rome, finding Jesus, muscular white marble, posing in a hidden nave.
A day of Limoncello, overlooking Pompeii from Capri.
A day in Armagh, Victoria, Margaret and Elizabeth, cooking BREAKFAST, as if a world war depended on it.
A day at the zoo, watching wondering eyes and climbing boys enliven creation.
A day of market discoveries, shared with friends and devoured in hospitality, glass in hand.
A day of puzzles, games and laughter, digger cakes and birthday candles.
A day of big fat trees of ancient heritage, moss and leaf litter’s pungent wafts.
A day of sandcastles, shells, cider and cheese, driving coastal winding routes.
A day of predawn queues, dark humour lists, maidens, wickets, Christmas cake.
A day of coloured clothes and painted signs, of drumming friends and rainbow hope.
A day of doors and brides and gentle loving, dancing, singing, joy bestowed.
A day of birth. A day of death. A day to hurry or not.

Too many photos for one day or ten.
Too many memories for one life or two.
Just as well there is a cloud of witnesses...
Something to be grateful for.


(C) 2019, A.Koh-Butler