In today’s installment of what’s beautiful,
I only first found what was broken,
until I caught a fleeting glimpse
of what laid beneath.
My son’s hair a rat’s nest,
but shining through were those
mischievous chocolate eyes.
My daughter sitting on the car seat,
a tired and irritable mess of
not wanting to go to camp, and
crumbs stuck to the back of ripped leggings
because she had saved her cookie
just for me.
Today’s hot yoga was a dusty mat
and a space heater in my office,
one down dog and child’s pose and savasana.
But I felt the ligaments between my toes
and heard myself exhale
for the first time in days.
I couldn’t seem to find the sacred
in this body that feels ten pounds too heavy
and a mind streaming with anxieties,
until a poem reached from those thoughts,
and asked me to play.
Yes, this heart aches to stay open
there is a miracle
in every filling of the atria,
every systole that pumps life through me,
without my asking or trying
which is a blessing beyond comprehension.
I don’t think I will look for beauty anymore
in what is pristine or just so
because I can’t live there,
where I don’t belong.
Give me what is worn around the edges,
dirty, cracked, tired
so that I can discover gold,
and remember what is