I am a sifter filled with floured memories. Shaking them down through metal mesh, turning a crank while dusty white turns into particles of gold. And I am panning through the nuggets knowing they are all gold. In fact, all are gems. I shake from side to side the pan sifting through and naming each one priceless – the dull and the shiny. The dim and the sparkled. Spattered with dust that flakes off the corners of a life.
I am an archivist searching through the rubble and the ruin, finding life among it all. Shovel and pick strike the dark dirt of possibility. And excavate a voice buried in the wet black soil of waiting.
I am a wanderer, slow walker down the paths of sun-drenched beginnings. Stumbler, mad-dasher, free-falling, zig-zagger changing it up, discovering what has been there all along.
I am a beauty-seeker. Finding a seat on a leather perch, peddling down gravel and sand, concrete and asphalt, weaving in and weaving out. I am a trail-blazer of the ordinary. Going in circles again and again. Riding restless and riding at peace. Turning down lanes of ivy and honeysuckle. Following fragrant folly down narrow paths covered in petals of spent blossom days.
I am a receiver of gifts, unfathomable, unparalleled, unnameable and new. Peeling back layers of wrapping to breath in the smell of love in the offerings laid at my feet. Ripe for the picking, unpacking, palpable seasoned with love.
And I am a child, learning to walk, to move from the pablum on to the banquet. To run and to twirl, to seek and to name, to climb and cling to each tree trunk and rope swing. To laugh and to fall, to sing and to dance.
I am an acrobat, balancing life, on a thin tight rope of wonderful beautiful magnificent days.
I am sous-chef cooking up feasts for ravenous curious hungry me. And mine. And ours. Seeking to sprinkle the right mix of herb and spice. Folding in nutrients for heart and soul. I am a planner and thrower of fetes. Singing and lighting the candles of celebration. One wick at a splendid time.
I am a journeyman looking for places to pour out the offerings of gifts of love. To give as been given to or more or beyond. And I am a cartophrapher mapping out moments. Spilling my soul into spontaneous seconds shaded by serendipity.
I am a life-giver, grower of people, young into old. Director of orchestra of days and of lives.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow will look new, because a lens of love was viewed through again. Bending light and life through the backside of a wide angle.
As a child of God, mouth and hands open wide. And turning it all to grateful poetic praise.
God I am as you have made. And I am sifting through it all, with grace.