One morning in India, I learned
what I am remembering now
folding soft brown blankets,
beginning my day.
Taught by example, without any words
as brightly-colored fabric
flew deftly into perfect folds.
However simple our home, we honor it
with our care, to its walls and floors,
to ourselves, the people living within.
We honor it most of all with the words
we choose, with the silence we keep,
defining our lives in each simple moment.
Folding back winter clouds, resplendent
with color moments ago,
a prairie wind clears the sky
honoring this one and only today.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
One morning in India, I learned
what I am remembering now
folding soft brown blankets,
beginning my day.
Taught by example, without any words
as brightly-colored fabric
flew deftly into perfect folds.
However simple our home, we honor it
with our care, to its walls and floors,
to ourselves, the people living within.
We honor it most of all with the words
we choose, with the silence we keep,
defining our lives in each simple moment.
Folding back winter clouds, resplendent
with color moments ago,
a prairie wind clears the sky
honoring this one and only today.
