More! Please . . .
Today I am grateful for a walk and talk with my friend Dorothy and for clean air to breathe and enjoy being out in.
Our grandson Leo and I have found our favorite activity for this summer. We have a bottle of the bubble-making solution and a mid-sized bubble wand that creates some pretty good bubbles. I blow the bubbles. He chases them. And at times we both watch one or two float up out of reach.
He chased down many a bubble for the few minutes we played. And he would run back asking for more, please! At three, he is a bundle of energy best channeled with activity. And at nearly 53, I am a bundle of energy wrapped in a different sort of package.
Leo's delight lifted my late-day spirits and helped clear a mind filled with the day's work and thoughts. When a bubble rose out of his reach, we would both watch it for as long as we could. Some floated over our neighbor's house, even above the trees.
Oh, to float away, light and airy. I can send fears, worries, obsessive thoughts, unmanageables on their way with a pause and letting go.
More, please. More moments of surrender. More glimpses of true grace. More moments to stop, listen, and experience.
Our grandson Leo and I have found our favorite activity for this summer. We have a bottle of the bubble-making solution and a mid-sized bubble wand that creates some pretty good bubbles. I blow the bubbles. He chases them. And at times we both watch one or two float up out of reach.
He chased down many a bubble for the few minutes we played. And he would run back asking for more, please! At three, he is a bundle of energy best channeled with activity. And at nearly 53, I am a bundle of energy wrapped in a different sort of package.
Leo's delight lifted my late-day spirits and helped clear a mind filled with the day's work and thoughts. When a bubble rose out of his reach, we would both watch it for as long as we could. Some floated over our neighbor's house, even above the trees.
Oh, to float away, light and airy. I can send fears, worries, obsessive thoughts, unmanageables on their way with a pause and letting go.
More, please. More moments of surrender. More glimpses of true grace. More moments to stop, listen, and experience.
Comments
Post a Comment