As you pour milk on your cereal, I am
grateful for the sound of milk flowing over
dried grain, for the peace that lets us wake
and eat together, to stare at each other in
silence like small animals. I am aware how
safely tumbled through Eternity we are. Not
to be hunted from birth. Or chased into the
forest and forced to part. Or beaten for a
secret some warlord thinks we’re hiding. I
eat my toast and close my eyes. How is it
we’re alive in a place that has running water,
where milk and eggs are plentiful? Atrocities
and wonders flutter through me. They bleed
into each other. I can’t stop it. The milk
tastes good as my twin is somewhere on
the run. It seems impossible to feel somany fates at once. Impossible not to.
A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or loved one, discuss how you hold the suffering of the world and the blessing of being alive in your daily awareness.
This excerpt is from my new book, Things That Join the Sea and the Sky: Field Notes on Living, published by Sounds True Nov 1, 2017.
*photo credit: Steve Johnson