An Approximation of Psalm 23

Good Lord, I have a lot of talented, thoughtful friends. Who could have imagined such abundance?

She goes to the grocery store for me, so I can lie down in the grass and stare at the clouds.

She teaches me to meditate.

She touches my life with humor; I cannot resist the urge to laugh.

One sacred friend sends me notes of encouragement every morning, and every evening, I trust her gentle light to guide me forward.

They do not leave me alone, these princess warriors; they send flowers, text messages and emails; they make cards and phone calls; they go with me to the therapist’s office and the attorney’s.

She takes me out to lunch and patiently lets me cry.

She shows up on my doorstep with Pinot Noir and dark chocolate.

So many provide my family with meals that I need a calendar to keep track of them all; there are not enough days in the month for so many dinners.

She reminds me who I am;

And I cannot help but to share this love myself, to participate in this proliferation of beauty and light.

Sprout

Oh, it is impossibly hard to begin again
when you’ve lost everything.
That tiny little leaf at the tip of the fragile green stem futile
against the whole world.
A giant undertaking,
overwhelming,
breathtaking,
altogether too much for one tiny seed.

And what difference will it make?
Is it even worth the effort?
Who cares?

Progress is slow,
imperceptible,
virtually unrecognizable.
The creative process discouraging.

You do it anyway.
Grow,
little by little,
one cell at a time.
One drop of rain.
One ray of sunshine.
One dark night.
Another. Another. Another.

You can’t help it.
It’s your nature.
It’s who you have been.
It’s who you are meant to be.

You realize
the sunlight, the raindrops, the winds of change and earthy roots
– this entire world –
has been working with you the whole time,
not pressing against you.
Protecting, nurturing, cheering you forward,
pressing you outward,
drawing you up to where
we can admire
your whole beautiful self.