Awakening the Microcosm of the Universe.

You make my heart sing. Beat a new breath.
Or you make my heart smile.

Today, as I traveled through the rain soaked horizon and the rain beat down pretty hard, I looked into myself and sometimes dozed off into attempted slumber... to pass those moments of time. Letting them tick by without being involved in the game somehow.

This evening on poetry, I read that poets often took the ordinary items from life, that of a cup or a sweater or sweet kiss and elaborated on these elements in their work. As I did my dishes, I saw the piling up of the orange peel and the inedible celery stalk and heard the clanging of the dishes as I placed them in the drainer. The rush of the water going into the sink and the counter becoming order again from the pile of chaos prior.

Remembering me of one of my favorite words of this week, microcosm. That little world that we wrap around ourselves to be our only reality. For our sense of comfort.
Or To feel so out of touch with the outside world sometimes, like being within an inpenetrable bubble. Wanting to get out and get some fresh air but also liking the comfort of the world that we create inside that cocoon.

Almost the same way of sometimes feeling like a square peg trying to fit into a wrong hole. Especially trying to find that place to belong at again to find sustanence and value after being so long out of work.

But also a sense of freedom to listen and find value in what offer as I did today in a focus group on Diversity Works, a new program in Bridgeport to find work for those with handicaps and other problems. Able to give my input and agreement as to other shared problems. Making me feel valued and valuable.

This is all possible because of you, Jesus, who went and walked that path before me. Putting up with the problems of the world and offering the value to me and others.

And thanks to being able to look at and laugh at some photos of friends such as Phil and of the writings and musings of Christine and her family. And for pondering the life and times of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the Maine Poet, who shaped America as she came out of a turbulent adolescence into her adulthood.

For life is good, even if surrounded by some sleepless nights. Trying to find ones way back into the current of life where my heart can once again sing. And I can beat the new breath and my heart will smile at the world once again.

Here is my toast to life, friends, the journey ahead and to God's glory!!!