A friend on Facebook posted this poem today. I cannot stop thinking about it.
It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?
The Patience of Ordinary Things, Pat Schneider
I want to be like the cup of tea, and hold those that come into my life with gentleness and gracefulness.
I want to be like the floor, and receive what comes to me with sturdy assurance.
I want to be like the soap, and quietly be exactly where I ought to be.
I want to be like the window, and be generous of my view and the beauty that I see.