I look outside and know things have
changed incrementally in ways
I do not see. A new day slightly
rearranged. A refusal delicate,
strong to not remain as once was,
the gift of life, the death and resurrection
of small things, the holy rebellion
the divine is made of, casts out over
this morning like a prayer that is heard
in the silence of listening,
in the sight my eyes take in,
in my heart and soul,
the agreement that things
are not as they have been
and the implications for me
as I live and breathe
the elixir-filled air breathed in
that clarifies for me the moment
and I repeat the prayer –
“I will be as I will be,”
the air filled with its echo.
-Byron Hoot
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