If all I could see most days was that beyond my window
I would delight in the four seasons of color, of life given the neighborhood.
If all I could hear was the barks, creaks, whirring, whoosing inside our home
I would be reasonable for the solace of being alone brings peace between each one.
If all I could smell was the beast under my feet in our mostly clean house that we share
I would concede in the relative order of things that hasn’t gone to awry in my senesence.
If all I could feel was an occasional cool breeze blowing in from the opened blind beyond
I would love that this Fall has been quite mild, keeping my toes a wittle warmer at night.
If all I could sense was the softness of my baby blue-colored robe as I write these words to you
I would be glad for one area of comfort that stands out amongst the rest . . . in gratitude.
And if all of these things came true as they have this day in our home, in our neighborhood
Then I say that I am at peace with the world: God is good. All the time. He is so very good.
For it is in the ordinary things of life in which we live and find our meaningfulness each day
On this street here with my hubby, our pup already asleep, with me saying “good night” one and all, and Godspeed too.