grant me this day, my daily bread

It's been a year of thousand changes and the changes and challenges have kept coming, even now, in these last days of the dying year.

Too weary to even articulate the most simple thoughts but here's a poem about the here and now, about this moment.

*

This,Now

Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you
spent reading or hearing this, keep it for life -

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?

William Stafford

*

I think I've met you before
somewhere in my dreams
but i dare not say
it may evaporate
the way the dew does on
grass.

this is for you, the unknowable
unquantifiable
indefinable you.

in case we ever meet in
the white hot light of day
this is for you. so you know
i'm here
that i missed you and
that i have been
waiting
all this time.