sitting, peering down
twitch of tail,
waiting…
waiting…
waiting....
for the fight.
four baby mice sleeping, unknowing
that death is head-hovered.
waiting…
waiting…
waiting…
for Life to show itself.
it sniffs.
Death readies itself for the pounce,
giving ample room for the flee,
amusement in the chase.
And I, seeing what will come
know that only in Living do we tempt Death.
It is the movement of the righteous
that causes the carnivore to salivate.
And only when we stop trying will he quit as well,
satisfied with our ineffective existence.
sincere kiss of the happy child
child wonder at mommy’s small noon shadow
shifting shadows of late evening
open windows, gentle breeze
a short rest after working hard
restoring the finish of wooden furniture
squelching thirst with cold water
reading in the bath
having weed-eated
Hope in the Lord’s strength when weak
arranging fresh flowers
pruning that brings life
hum of the air conditioner on a humid day
believing in miracles
bird song
the company of a pet