Astonished.

On By Shayleene MacReynoldsIn poetry

There are still things inside the world to bring astonishment.

The first sip from a cup of coffee in the morning, while you watch the dayglow filter through the window.
The way that someone asks how are you and they really mean it.
The eggs that I collect, each morning, from my chickens. The weight of them inside my hands all their shapes and colors.
My sister’s face, and her laughter, the way she has decorated her bedroom with the blue walls and the album covers.
The bare branches that are, one morning, suddenly full of flowers. Small pink round faces, like a cotton candy tree.
What love looks like. The shape of an eyebrow, the gold fleck in his eye.
The light inside my bedroom at 3 PM each afternoon.
The way the lilies open in the vase inside the kitchen.
A mallard duck in our front yard.
A cold beer on a hot day. That first sip, the way the amber color glints inside the glass.
The last line of a great book
Or a good song played at the right time.
The smell of a burger, with grilled onions, wafting through a parking lot.
Locking eyes with a stranger on the street. Passing them by, and recognizing that the world is filled with people you will never know.
The shape of my dog’s face. Her eyes and how she watches me. Climbs beneath the covers how she twitches in her sleep.
A pot pie baking in the oven
Or perfect harmonies.
The way the rain rushes down that one spot on the roof. How we leave the slider open, just to listen to it lull us into sleep.
When a baby rests its head against your chest.
My garden, how the plants seem to grow inches overnight. In the morning, it looks like somewhere else entirely.
The smell of an old bookstore
Or fits of laughter so great that you cannot breathe.

Remember, there are still things inside the world to bring astonishment.

26 thoughts on “Astonished.”

    1. Yes yes! That was the goal. My goodness we are hurting globally aren’t we? And yet, there is something in this that is a power of connection–every one of us, sharing the same crisis. It empowers me to think we can, also, share the same blessings and the same love. Be well, friend. Big love ❤

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  13. Hi Shayleene: Thank you for visiting and following Bookshelf that is written for people like you that are curious, reflective, and understand the obligations of the writer. One of the most enduring inspirations for my life is Socrates’ famous dictum: “the unexamined life is not worth living.” We live in a time that demands independent and critical thinking and the belief that all of humanity is intricately connected and interdependent; however, we witness a lot of the opposite: polarization, intolerance, hatred, tribalism, dysfunctional groupthink, and so forth. That is one of the benefits of blogging matters of consequence — to reach out to people to share reflections, inspire, or inform — in the hope that our voice can be one source of light in the darkness. William Faulkner expressed the writer’s obligation so eloquently and so passionately in his acceptance speech upon winning the Nobel prize for literature: “I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.” Cheers, Alex

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