Thinking about simple things
like the downy softness of baby hair
nestled in the crook of my elbow
as the rocking chair gently creaked.
The moment when the sun peeks through
on a cloudy morning.
The feeling of accomplishment
when the sugar carmelizes perfectly brown
and crackly on top of the creme brulée.
The intimacy of quiet moments
requiring no words between lovers
because love forms a soft cloud of understanding,
Full of such richness.
The little gift of everyday miracles,
so sweet to remember.
But the wistfulness melts away
when I realize
the next miracle is just around the corner,
about to come in to view,
if only I'm paying attention.