12/27/09 - I Remember #1

I remember opening. 

I am opening. 

Shhhhhh.

 What's out there? 

Waiting without any intention...

just waiting, 

right there. 

You can reveal yourself to me. 

I will be still. 

I want to be awake, forever, 

for you. 

Show me how. 

Reveal your perfect truth... 

or truths?

 Make me ready. 

Quiet my head. 

Open my heart...

so wide I lose my self inside it. 

SHOW ME. 

PLEASE.

 AS MUCH AS WE ARE READY FOR. 

I know I remember you. 

I know I can find the details in my dna...

in the dna of daisies 

and bluejays 

and squirrels. 

I see you there and I remember. 

I remember you in tiny footprints 

and in every kind of laughter, 

in sun rises 

and sets.

 I remember you when you blow the hair away from my face 

and touch my cheeks softly with every gentle summer breeze. 

I remember you in music 

and on that hill on 91st street when I'm riding Sissy. 

I remember you in caramel coffee 

and in Tee-Stee's stories. 

I know you from those thank you cards my students write 

and from an afternoon with Maggie. 

Sometimes I see you in the way my husband looks at me, 

and I see and hear and feel and love you in and around and all over my sister Jenny. 

I remember you guiding and nudging me toward my first mission trip. 

I felt you in my cells that week. 

I feel you in my cells sometimes 

and I wish I could always feel you there. 

I wish I could remember who I am...

with you...

always. 

Be here now.