It’s a weekend of return. From work and friendship and family in Edmonton, the city in which I lived the first 20 years of my life, to Utah, the sweetheart and home that now opens my heart oh so fully.
Yes.
There’s a William Stafford poem that my friend Jeremy reminds me of. It’s called “Yes.” I like the way that it points to today, to what is here, oh so fully.
Yes
It could happen any time, tornado
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That’s why we wake
and look out — no gurantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.
Yes.
Yes to what is simple. Yes to what reminds, or creates, home. Yes to people, here now, figuring it out, sometimes in sunshine, sometimes in thick and overwhelming mud.
Yes.
Yep.