This morning I finish a book
and I am
completely broken, a very large pile of tissues beside me
still, in the quiet of a beautiful morning, sat
sobbing my heart out
I have just finished The Bright Hour
a memoir of living and dying by Nina Riggs
and though I knew by the title where I was heading,
I so did not want this one
to end
this is quite an extraordinary book, and if you ever want a reassurance
of life
of love
of living
and the infinitesimal-ness of your current problems
than this is a must read
for
you
I keep looking at the picture of the author inside the back cover
and I am so very grateful to see the absolute beauty
in her smile
While I am digesting everything I have just taken in
(and trying to regain normal breathing)
I am gazing out the window on a gloriously sunshiny
wintry sort of day
the very beginning of March
I sit
in great gratitude for the beauty of trees
heavily blanketed in fresh snow
dancing gracefully in the breeze while delicately shedding the covers
in a joyous sort of striptease
then stretching feathery limbs to bask in the warm sparkling light
once again, dripping with diamonds 
I am watching the clouds sail by, wispy and white
across the bluest of blue skies
and how their shapes seem to compliment the tops of the trees
as they undress
completely unfettered by the swoops and swirls of incoming
starlings
I try to take a few pictures, so as not to lose this beauty
before it is imprinted on my heart
I think about the absolute importance of gratitude in life
and not missing small glorious things
that are not so common that we should ever
not be
a-mazed
I’m thinking about blessings, thankfulness
and
connections
I’m thinking about shared grief, compassion
empathy
and laughter
I’m thinking most gratefully about
the fullness of my
own boundless
heart
also from the comfort of my chair
I am thinking
how pictures would probably be clearer
if only,
one got up
from time to time
to clean the glass ♥
