Rose after rain.
The Patience of Ordinary Things
by Pat Schneider
It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
how the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
how the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
or toes. How soles of feet know
where they're supposed to be.
I've been thinking about the patience
of ordinary things, how clothes
wait respectfully in closets
and soap dries quietly in the dish,
and towels drink the wet
from the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?
from 'Another River: New and Selected Poems'
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The secret of life: there are no ordinary things. xo
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"Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be." ~Grandma Moses
3 comments:
grandma moses never fails to make me smile.
and the ordinary, if we are paying attention, is extraordinary. i laugh. today james and i spent time near a river. after a thousand ordinary miracles (truly, i counted) we stood and hugged. i looked down between us and i saw my foot framed by the small opening between our bodies. i said, hey, look! if you look down you can see my foot through this small opening! it seemed remarkable to me. we laughed at me and the joy of life a great deal)))
touch things and be well, my friend. be touched by things and be well.
love)))
xo
erin
I like that: there *are* no ordinary things.
It's lovely.
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