Wistful


Sometimes I get wistful.

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,
acceptance,
just so-ness.

Simple things.

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.

Comments

I lovvvvve this! Every single image, precious.
poefusion said…
Your first lines about the baby's downy softness reminds me of a baby I saw yesterday which was so adorable, so tiny.

The little things in life certainly are precious and can make it most happy. Have a great day.
Janet said…
Beautiful! yes, if we all just paid more attention . . .
~JarieLyn~ said…
It's amazing how much we can see and feel if we just pay attention. Your post is very enlightening.
ELK said…
such beautiful words!
Delwyn said…
Lovely Meri..

wistful
expectant
receptive


Happy days
What perfect observations -- I've decided that between your poetry and your photography that both sides of your brain work wonderfullly...
Reya Mellicker said…
We tilting head first into the season of wistfulness. You're in the groove, Meri!
big smile....

wistful is a wonderful word and all the words in your musing are simply divine and sublime

thanks
Relyn Lawson said…
Those ordinary miracles make life so beautiful. Of course, you have to have the heart to see them. Happy weekend, my friend.

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