as ordinary as a hot cup of tea

a big sigh taken without thought,

black woolen gloves for cold hands

warmth radiating from a wood stove

ordinary moments that sneak up to become…life

 

waking one winter morning

dawn shines through bedroom window

sharp blades of light slice through

slumber, a beacon of

courage seeking a new day

 

working on a short wintry afternoon

outside my office window,

robin perches on bare branches of a red bud tree

stares back at me with a question in its black eyes

maybe singing, are we there yet?

 

walking outside one chilly evening

the moons iridescent ring grabs and shoots me

to the stars and back, to loom among the oak crowns,

a screech owl woman

bursting with mystery, calling for change

 

wondering, that after 27 years

your sweet smile flashes and sparks

sends shivers up my spine

stokes a fire that’s not been quenched

asking why would we want to rush these things?

 

grace finds us in odd moments

maybe on some ordinary morning

departs from us not where we are found

instead, transports us to uncharted realms

leaving no footprints behind

 

when is a smile more than a smile, a robin more than a bird,

the moon’s ring an uncanny passage,

morning sunlight a wake-up call and

when we pause to listen…

the ordinary may sound like a chorus of hallelujah

 

 

© January 20, 2016

as ordinary as a hot cup of tea
a big sigh taken without thought,
black woolen gloves for cold hands
warmth radiating from a wood stove
ordinary moments that sneak up to become…life

waking one winter morning
dawn shines through bedroom window
sharp blades of light slice through
slumber, a beacon of
courage seeking a new day

working on a short wintry afternoon
outside my office window,
robin perches on bare branches of a red bud tree
stares back at me with a question in its black eyes
maybe singing, are we there yet?

walking outside one chilly evening
the moons iridescent ring grabs and shoots me
to the stars and back, to loom among the oak crowns,
a screech owl woman
bursting with mystery, calling for change

wondering, that after 27 years
your sweet smile flashes and sparks
sends shivers up my spine
stokes a fire that’s not been quenched
asking why would we want to rush these things?

grace finds us in odd moments
maybe on some ordinary morning
departs from us not where we are found
instead, transports us to uncharted realms
leaving no footprints behind

when is a smile more than a smile, a robin more than a bird,
the moon’s ring an uncanny passage,
morning sunlight a wake-up call and
when we pause to listen…
the ordinary may sound like a chorus of hallelujah

© January 20, 2016

as ordinary as a hot cup of tea

a big sigh taken without thought,

black woolen gloves for cold hands

warmth radiating from a wood stove

ordinary moments that sneak up to become…life

 

waking one winter morning

dawn shines through bedroom window

sharp blades of light slice through

slumber, a beacon of

courage seeking a new day

 

working on a short wintry afternoon

outside my office window,

robin perches on bare branches of a red bud tree

stares back at me with a question in its black eyes

maybe singing, are we there yet?

 

walking outside one chilly evening

the moons iridescent ring grabs and shoots me

to the stars and back, to loom among the oak crowns,

a screech owl woman

bursting with mystery, calling for change

 

wondering, that after 27 years

your sweet smile flashes and sparks

sends shivers up my spine

stokes a fire that’s not been quenched

asking why would we want to rush these things?

 

grace finds us in odd moments

maybe on some ordinary morning

departs from us not where we are found

instead, transports us to uncharted realms

leaving no footprints behind

 

when is a smile more than a smile, a robin more than a bird,

the moon’s ring an uncanny passage,

morning sunlight a wake-up call and

when we pause to listen…

the ordinary may sound like a chorus of hallelujah

 

 

© January 20, 2016as ordinary as a hot cup of tea

a big sigh taken without thought,

black woolen gloves for cold hands

warmth radiating from a wood stove

ordinary moments that sneak up to become…life

 

waking one winter morning

dawn shines through bedroom window

sharp blades of light slice through

slumber, a beacon of

courage seeking a new day

 

working on a short wintry afternoon

outside my office window,

robin perches on bare branches of a red bud tree

stares back at me with a question in its black eyes

maybe singing, are we there yet?

 

walking outside one chilly evening

the moons iridescent ring grabs and shoots me

to the stars and back, to loom among the oak crowns,

a screech owl woman

bursting with mystery, calling for change

 

wondering, that after 27 years

your sweet smile flashes and sparks

sends shivers up my spine

stokes a fire that’s not been quenched

asking why would we want to rush these things?

 

grace finds us in odd moments

maybe on some ordinary morning

departs from us not where we are found

instead, transports us to uncharted realms

leaving no footprints behind

 

when is a smile more than a smile, a robin more than a bird,

the moon’s ring an uncanny passage,

morning sunlight a wake-up call and

when we pause to listen…

the ordinary may sound like a chorus of hallelujah

 

 

© January 20, 2016as ordinary as a hot cup of tea

a big sigh taken without thought,

black woolen gloves for cold hands

warmth radiating from a wood stove

ordinary moments that sneak up to become…life

 

waking one winter morning

dawn shines through bedroom window

sharp blades of light slice through

slumber, a beacon of

courage seeking a new day

 

working on a short wintry afternoon

outside my office window,

robin perches on bare branches of a red bud tree

stares back at me with a question in its black eyes

maybe singing, are we there yet?

 

walking outside one chilly evening

the moons iridescent ring grabs and shoots me

to the stars and back, to loom among the oak crowns,

a screech owl woman

bursting with mystery, calling for change

 

wondering, that after 27 years

your sweet smile flashes and sparks

sends shivers up my spine

stokes a fire that’s not been quenched

asking why would we want to rush these things?

 

grace finds us in odd moments

maybe on some ordinary morning

departs from us not where we are found

instead, transports us to uncharted realms

leaving no footprints behind

 

when is a smile more than a smile, a robin more than a bird,

the moon’s ring an uncanny passage,

morning sunlight a wake-up call and

when we pause to listen…

the ordinary may sound like a chorus of hallelujah

 

 

© January 20, 2016

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Comment by Barry Hammer on February 14, 2016 at 9:01pm

Mari, Thank you for sharing this earthy, pungent, poetic, inspiring, description of the many-splendored beauty and glory of everyday life. Truly, every aspect and moment of everyday life can become extraordinary if we are fully "present" to it, with an open, attentive, heart, mind, and body senses. This brings to mind Martin Buber's insight that "all real living is meeting."

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