Bless Us

Such a cliche, maybe, but when I’m feeling lost, poems help me find my way.  Often it’s the same ones that I go back to, reliable old friends that remind me what matters.  Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Mary Oliver, Langston Hughes, e.e. cummings, Maya Angelou, Wendell Berry.

Sometimes I find new ones and they immediately become old friends.  I know they’ll make the permanent rotation as soon as I read them.  This is my new favorite:

It sums up my entire marriage.  Matt and I, planners through and through, but so terrible at taking things slowly and deliberately when it comes right down to it. 

Bless us.

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