Size Doesn’t Matter
Still here doing my best. It’s not great but it’s all I got. Looking for a spark and found this poem
I ask for just the slightest shift
in my thinking, the kindest sifting
of my busy mind, so only wonder
and peace are left behind. So that
as I walk out in sleet this morning,
I can see even these muddy ruts
made by trucks on the forest trail
as harbors of miracle that will fill
with snowmelt and rain for tadpoles
to swim in, until that sunlit instant
come summer, when they feel the flexing
of legs working in the water beneath them,
and leap out onto the ground, their bodies
having decided, by pure instinct alone,
to be soft and fully alive in this world.
James Crews
Searching for a glimmer, opening or shift. Still here gaining strength. Still trying. Still tired.
ISO Day 7 Alone. Hurt. Tired. Sad.
1.6.25
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