Today
I SAT ALONE in the pre-dawn sipping Casi Cielo
Watching the darkness outside the kitchen window
As it yielded ever so subtly to the light.
How almost heavenly was the quiet and solitude
Before the stirring of the day.
I saw from the corner of my eye that
The wind had picked up outside.
Presently the trees, in concert with the
Twigs, pine straw, and ground plants
Reminded me that His creation is alive.
Like me.
The vegetation swaggered this way then that
At the will of the wind gusts,
And early birds sang along in time.
I rose to the occasion with a comforter around me
So as to mute the chill of the Autumn air drafting in,
And in that moment decided to press my nose against the window.
But the mist from my nostrils and mouth
Clouded the window, and my view. It always does.
This time I decided to write a thank you note with my finger
To the performers I shall likely never see again.
But the mist vanished before I could finish.
I mused, “That was only practice.”
Though I knew full well that it’s all practice.
So I filled my lungs again and blew s-l-o-w-l-y
On the cold glass, and quickly
Drew a picture note instead.
And as I gazed at it, it gave me pause, and
I wondered . . .
I wondered
If my Creator ever blew His breath in the cold.
My quandary was answered in an instant. For
God blew a mist known as ME onto the scene
One chilly Christmas Eve, according to my mother,
Who often recollected that she shivered
On a metal gurney for hours before I arrived.
God knew that I would wonder about Him at His sunrise today,
That I would remember what I am. And reason
How special is my brief one-of-a-kind mist,
Because of who He is.
So I lifted my eyes toward the heavens
And fell in awe, again, at the vista of blazing coral clouds
As they began to unveil a neon cerulean sky.
Another day, unlike any before was unfolding right in front of me,
And I should be thankful in it, for it is His will for me.
What a vivid reminder of my generous inheritance!
The beautiful gifts He placed in me must be shared while I can, for
I’ve no idea how much longer MY MIST will last on this earth, and
I'm eager to see what He has planned for me from long ago . . .
. . .Today.
(Inspired by Ecclesiastes and the letter of James, chapter 4)
© Copyright March 2019, Revised December 2020;Rewritten December 2022,
Gary Landerfelt mypericope.com
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