These Gifts Are Like Prayers

Can Flowers Change Your Life? IV. January 10, 2016

Cold rain, cold sun.  The indoor
flowers bloom.  The small orchid
has dozens of flower stalks aimed
at window light, patient on grey days,
eager, when sun is full and skies blue
again.  The amaryllis begins its slow
rise, a centimeter at a time.  A reporter
came to my book signing, smiling the 
whole time.  He said his editor gets
a kick out of me. Jane calls me noble,
Susan gives me corn and potato chowder.
Zoila helped me harvest lemon balm and
weed in the orchard.  Today I will
speak to my community about my
love for them and the war we fight
to stop the coal ash, and then we will
sing.  Enough money has come in
for me to pay my bills and keep 
publishing books.  I have eased my
way through stressful days–too many
meetings, but now I rest and see my
way forward.  I’m on my leyline, 
more than I’ve ever been before.  I’m
fulfilling a prophecy I saw fifteen years
ago: my books are coming into print.
What I never expected is coming true,
too.  People are reaching out to help me
before I ask.  Shawn repaired the
clothesline; Jane brought lights for
the sign.  Julia traded her lovely calendar
for a new book.  Dawn and Jim have 
ordered fatwood fire starters.  I have students
eager to hear what I’ve learned about
writing these forty-two years of teaching,
nurturing those who doubted their
powers.  Cathy is praying for our gospel
sing benefit today.  All these gifts are like
prayers, all these hands keeping me steady 
on my feet like Terica did Friday.  Somehow 
the Universe is sending light to me, sanctioning 
what I write, what I do, and even who I am.

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