Simply Blessed

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what do i do with these images
of thin sheets of curled steel laying upright on our yard
what do I do with these images of cars thrown about
like three colored dice rolled out on the lawn

what do I do with the fear of this stunning force and power
a car has — the ability to change everything in an instant

I too have the power to change anything in an instant.

I want to curl up first, I want to spill out of a bottomless pit of grief

And then I want to rise up remembering who I really am.
I want to feel every millimeter of that blossoming me
that begins from down low and narrow in its roots and
slowly rises and expands upwards and outward curling
as it goes up to the sky, making handholds for those
who need the flowers — me.

I want to hear the birds begin their chorus of song at every
moment of the day, our daily problems so inconsequential to them

I want to remember that at the end of the day no matter what that day has been,
I can open my window and I can hear that chorus of birds right now.
Their sole job is to sing and to sing, and to sing again.  Their beauty sings to me.

Today perhaps you would allow I could say they sing for me.
They sing: come sing with us Bethie.  Breathing now, I say I will, I will.
I am almost there.  No, I am already there.