‘Make much of something small.
The pouring-out of tea,
a drying flower’s shadow on the wall
from last week’s bouquet.
A fact; it isn’t summer anymore.
Say that December sun
is pitiless, but crystalline
and strikes like a bell.
Say it plays colours like a glockenspiel.
It shows the dust as well,
the elemental sediment
your broom has missed,
and lights upon each grain of sugar spilled
upon the tablecloth, beside
pistachio shells, peel of a clementine.
Slippers and morning paper on the floor,
and wafts of heat from rumbling radiators,
can this be all? No look – here comes the cat,
with one ear inside out.
Make much of something small. — ‘Bounty’ by Robyn Sarah
I receive “The Writer’s Almanac” in my inbox each morning and today’s poem seemed so appropriate as so many enjoy the holidays of the season. I wish you love and hope and laughter, really good hugs, friends and family to share in your delight (and the food – I heard a rumor that if you share it, the calories are also divided amongst all who partake). I wish you time to marvel at the small moments that should never go unnoticed, for they hold truths far larger than we can imagine. I hope you get some drool-y naps in there too, awakened by the sounds of quiet commiseration between loved ones. And of course, I hope you receive all that you wish for, and wish for all that you have.
Waiting for the Karma Truck 