CALL ME BELOVED

Is it enough to put the words down,
heavy with ink and the best intentions
and to leave them, in good faith and trust
like a handwritten note on the kitchen counter?

Is it enough to be grateful?
Or is this guilt necessary,
how one mote of good news
(a crumb of twenty seconds or so
strung together like found pearls)
can erase years of toil,
sleepless and sweating?
But it’s all done now,
all smiles and gentle sunlight
spilling through leaves –
not worth talking about
but I cannot stop, I never wanted to
and I wouldn’t have it any other way
or spent my time any differently.

I don’t have a better way, not yet –
My mornings are ritual and the days are aimless,
and filled with kindnesses and the simplest sorts
of happinesses – this is enough for me.
I’m singing, singing on the inside
and trying to match the beautiful voices
I hear everywhere and always.