06/15/2026
Last week on an ordinary morning, a poem arrived - My pen floated on my notebook, here's an excerpt- (nature can teach a lot about -your purpose? )
Goldfinch,
you arrive like a small burst of sunlight
in the middle of an ordinary morning.
The feeder sways,
the cedar shadows move,
and there you are—
a streak of yellow
against the green breathing world.
You land lightly,
The busy mind quietens.,
You do not seem burdened
by purpose.
Yet somehow,
in your brief visit,
hope enters the yard.
I wonder whether agility
is not something to master
but something to remember.
Then you disappear into the morning.
Nothing has changed.
And yet everything has.
I am reminded again
of the preciousness of this moment—
this breath,
this life entrusted to me.
Perhaps my task is simple:
to learn my gifts well,
to offer them fully,
and,
leave something bright behind.