She lets us touch her neck, her back, that beautiful,
old, black mustang. Cautiously, we flank her
and stroke her taut sides, our hands full of praise.
Her large gray eyes droop. She begins to drool.
Joe laughs, saying she is so at ease
she is about to fall asleep.
I am thinking of how every morning I take
calcium, B-vitamins, drink water with lemon,
believing small daily habits make a big difference
over time. Perhaps it is the same with awe—
spending even a few moments a day touching
something greater than we are will eventually
change who we are inside. I believe that tonight,
moved as I am by the surprising softness of her hips,
the trust she conveys with her stillness, my palm
moving slowly against her side. Her ease becomes
my ease as I watch my daughter rest her forehead
on the mustang’s withers. The great being’s trust
becomes my trust as the sunset turns
the whole world to amber, to gold.
Posts Tagged ‘awe’
In Evening Light
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, Grace Reins, horse, mustang, self-care, trust on June 22, 2026| 4 Comments »
Today’s Headline
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, bird, disgust, falling in love with the world, news, owl, shift on February 11, 2026| 8 Comments »
And then one day, while I read
the news aloud to my husband
and felt the widening hole in my heart,
he raised his hand to quiet me.
I followed his gaze out the window
to see in the yard a small fluffy thing
with black and white eyespots on its head.
A northern pygmy owl beside our door,
stout body slightly smaller than my fist.
It turned its neck a full half circle
to look at me with bright yellow eyes.
In an instant,
I shifted from disgust with the world
to awe. Awe for this fierce, bespeckled
miracle, this wonder of feather, beak and claw,
this small being in the grass looking back
at me as if to say, Here is also the news.
How surprising the world can be.
How quickly, when I let it, amazement
overwrites my fear and makes
of the hole in my heart a home.
The Season
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, biodegrade, halloween, mold, pumpkin, transmutation on November 6, 2025| 2 Comments »
Rather not to lift this rotting pumpkin,
its cavern a fuzzy quilt of black, green
and white circles, intricate thread-like
filaments, a moldering world I glimpse
through the sagging holes of the eyes
and the gap where the toothy smile
has curled in on itself. Such disgusting
deliquescence, this clear puddle beneath it.
Of course, the hands would resist to touch it,
and yet, there rises also this awe for the way
life feeds on itself to nourish the whole. What
inside me is ready for such transmutation?
What story, what rule, what old and sturdy should
is ready to change from something solid
and weighty into puddle, then into nothing at all—
Walking Back from Sanborn Park
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged attention, awe, fear, paradox, snake, terror on June 12, 2025| 6 Comments »
Four-foot rattlesnake.
Sunning herself.
Right in the middle
of the road. Strange,
how terror can also
breed awe. For long,
silent moments, I offer
her all my attention.
After she slips into swaths
of sweet clover,
the sky, such a startling blue.
The scent of wild roses,
so stirring, so sweet.
One Expanding Awe
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, beauty, daughter, love, sky on February 2, 2025| 4 Comments »
for Vivian
when she can’t stop
falling in love with the blush of sky
I can’t stop falling in love with her
So I Spend It Again
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, beauty, bird, heron on October 3, 2024| 8 Comments »
Before sleep, I touch it again,
that moment this morning
when I slipped out before sunrise
and sat in the pale blue light
and watched a lone heron
trace the curve of the river
before disappearing behind
golden cottonwoods.
It lasted, what, three seconds?
But those instants of awe
have returned to me again
and again like a coin I spent
on something beautiful
only to find, by what miracle?
it returns to burn a hole
in my pocket again.
Wings of Wonder
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, eagle, falling in love with the world, wonder on February 13, 2024| 8 Comments »
There, in the field,
you catch the flash
of dark brown wings,
the tail a startling white,
just before the great bird
disappears into the pines
and the heart leaps up
at the gift—the thrill.
You almost missed it.
Once you stood
on a long rocky spit
for an hour watching
hundreds of bald eagles
fly and land, swoop and dive.
How is it that only one bird
for only one sliver of a second
could invite a wonder equally strong?
Such strange math—
the way it takes so little
to create a joy so large
so that seeing the eagle,
you lift your arms from your chair
as if you, too, are taking flight,
as if, you, too, might disappear
into the moment and soar.
One Threadbare
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, exhaustion, noticing, wonder on January 20, 2024| 4 Comments »
frayed, this wonder,
the world no less filled
with magnificence
While in the Middle of Many Errands
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, birdsong, daughter, parkinglot on November 12, 2023| 13 Comments »
At the edge of the Big Five parking lot,
in a tree still fully leafed out in November,
there must have been hundreds of invisible birds
all singing as if singing is what a day is for,
and the riotous song traveled
over the vast black asphalt sea
crossing all the organizing straight white lines—
so much song for such a small tree—
and stunned, my daughter and I stood and listened,
our rush stopped by the glorious commotion,
as if awe is what a day is for,
as if we exist to be stretched ever wider by disbelief,
as if we are here to know ourselves
as part of something greater,
the world calling us again and again
deeper into the mystery.
Redefining
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, daughter, reverence, walking, wonder on March 5, 2023| 4 Comments »
Perhaps I thought awe required a symphony
or spinning galaxies or flagrant pink sunsets
or dropping to my knees, but today, it’s as simple
as walking beside my daughter on a quiet back road,
and her ears hurt and my legs are tired and spring
is barely a dream, but on this drab and windy afternoon
surrounded by bare branches and dirty old snow,
I feel it, reverence, how big it is, this love for her,
this wonder for the world, and I thrum
with the great gift of being human,
and the world is vaster, my god, it’s sublime.
After Attending the Conversation on Awe
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged autumn, awe, friendship, nature on September 30, 2022| 5 Comments »
for Jay
We stepped into cool autumnal air
ripe with the red scent of tiny crab apples
and charged with the darkling promise of storm.
We were well-armed with studies and stories
on why we might want to choose awe—
but awe chose us the way gold chooses aspen,
the way love chooses friends,
the way shorter days choose fall,
the way beauty chooses what will die.
And aspen leaves whirled all around us
and caught in our hair, and we knew ourselves
as small essential beings in a wide, astonishing world.
*Hey, friends, just saying that the Original Thinkers Festival program on the Power of Awe was AMAZING!!! If you have never checked out Original Thinkers in Telluride, well, it is great for people who are curious and like to engage in conversations about paradox, science, emotion, the natural world and community.
Very, Very Quietly
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, blessing, bliss, poem, poetry, sky on October 26, 2013| 3 Comments »
I did not choose
awe today, but the big
pink sky chose me
and steeped me
in fantastic joy—
a drenching of miracle,
an overdose of amazement,
a wild indulgence of bliss—
oh such pink! layers
of rose and deeper rose,
and I did not earn it,
did not first prove my worthiness,
did not beg nor kneel nor fast
nor renounce my name
nor pull the strings
of the lyre nor sing,
all I had to do
was step outside
out of my own way
and open my eyes
and let myself
be gifted.
six
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, bread, change, crow, haiku, heart, listening, lock, love, poem, transience, uncertainty on January 12, 2012| 2 Comments »
too many to count
petals on the orchard floor
he loves me?
*
rusted lock
in the heart’s back pocket
a spare key
*
snow on the ridges
come spring what else
will be missing?
*
almost asleep
these hands still kneading
soft dough
*
he talks
and talks and talks and talks
about listening
*
no temple bells
still the crow goes on
about awe, awe