she arrived in the mail, wrapped in cardboard, hands folded, wings wired, branches entwining figure.
she arrived, a gift from faraway friend and i held her tender, this tree, this prayer. i placed her by my ivy by the light of the window where i do the dishes.
i placed her by my shadow, the one that curls around pot and pan and washcloth each evening while husband baths baby and the day gets scrubbed clean all around. i placed her there to remember who i want to be when i look in the mirror.
a tree, a prayer. later, i stand tousle-haired, pajamas black, staring into the glass, and it’s one of many actions that unite the world, this looking into the mirror. i peer closer, see the freckles sun has grown. the way my smile has crept up to my eyes, lining them with the feet of birds. (does crow’s feet imply our eyes soar?)
we look in the mirror, and we choose. we choose to love or despise the image reflected. for years, i despised.
now, i pray as i look, that i might see her. this woman by my window. the tree, the prayer. the woman who folds her hands instead of wringing them, the woman who stands so still roots wrap her round and everyone who looks upon her finds peace.
i stand still while the rest of the house sleeps and beg for spiritual eyes. resurrection sight. the kind that un-tombs Christ. the kind that finds heaven on earth. the kind that finds God in mirrored reflection.
321. for swimming with aiden and hubby
322. for an afternoon in the park and sunshine
323. for friends and lasagne and garlic bread
324. for packages in the mail
325. for the purposeful slowing of books to prolong the characters, the story
326. for interviews and articles to write
327. for baby stories animated by hand gestures
328. for lengthening of sun
329. for completion of kasher’s nursery paintings
330. for easter come soon
my apologies for any inconvenience caused by music-player issues this weekend… thanks for patience… i’ve tried to fix; please let me know if troubles ensue. love to you all. e.