The spirit that breathes in all living things confounds explanation.
But don’t think too hard about it
or you may lose it.
We – who are surrounded by life –
can be buoyed by miracles
if we choose
or remember to.
One might see the ordinary as extraordinary
the mundane as miraculous
for things such as these are holy:
the call of a child’s hello crossing the threshold home,
telling stories,
a tree weathering a storm,
a hen atop her eggs,
laughter again at the same old joke,
the wag of the tail,
the burst of a leaf through the wall of a bud,
a seed,
the arrival of wintering wrens back to the yard,
shared bread and banter around the table,
and being held
and loving back.
So,
when you seek holy ground
maybe
look down
because
you are the vessel, too.
Sanctity is everywhere.
Where you stand,
wherever you stand,
is holy ground.
Just Sifting 
Lovely set of images reminding readers to be present and appreciative right here, right now.
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Deb, this is a poem after my own spirit. The chain of symbolic images reinforces a profound and transcendent reality. This makes my day and inspires me.
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Thank you, Paul. I think that perhaps people who write – or feel compelled to – may look at things in alternate ways to find meaning that is not always evident at a glance. Not sure, but maybe? Thank you as always for your comments; I appreciate your views tremendously.
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I love this. Very wise and beautifully said.
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Thank you so much for saying so.
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