At sunset last evening we sat in our back lawn. The air was refreshing, the wind brought an exuberance to the trees, their branches and leaves swaying in full summer glory. The yellow and fuschia yarrow plants drew our gaze, as their fringed delicate leaves resembled ruffled feathers. The birds had retreated to their evening abodes. Peaceful. Healing.

As I reflect on our comfort in comparison to the suffering world-wide, I vow to be a better person. To celebrate each day and night. To be thankful. To be observant. 

Derek Walcott wrote: “So much to do still, all of it praise”.

Thank you kindly ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Gail Louise

A poem, Love After Love, by Dereck Walcott, Saint Lucian poet and Nobel Laureate, 1930-2017:

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.