Possibilities

Some impossible things before breakfast . . .

As the rain dried on the pavement this morning, I saw wet spots that looked like birds, elephants, and countries where I long to travel. This got me thinking about the possibilities in every small moment, and where the mind can wander.

Move forward into this day with knowing

that everything you place can become something else—

if you just look at it a little longer.

The lentils left in the bowl are a city nestled into

the green grass background of the bowl,

bits of dressing are beaches carved into the forest—

a landscape of miracles that used to be your breakfast.

In the blur before you put on your glasses,

the lily that dropped from the bouquet on the table

becomes a tropical bird resting on its journey from here to the edges of the earth.

The water in the vase is the ocean and —

if you breathe in deeply enough—

you can taste the salt.

With your eyes turned away from the screens,

towards the lush summer greenness outside,

the email notifications become temple bells

echoing over a still mountain lake

calling you to silence.