|They exhaust me who preach
the world is mine to make,
|as though without me – or
someone sadly like me – there is
|no epic tale of light’s procession here,
no narrative of tides
|or of desiring birds. Is this
what they, bedside
|tell their children?
Out here, in dawn’s half-light,
|where the world makes me whole – us
whole – I praise the narrow inlet,
|its brackish story, that warbler nearby
getting it said – I am here.
By Brad Davis
Questions & Actions
- Think of a profound experience you had outdoors. Where were you? Who were you with? What were you viewing? Doing? What about that time echoed Brad’s last line that you were there?
- What is the world without us? Is the world ours to make? Or are you skeptical like the poem?
- Today, regardless, imagine the world is not yours to make. Instead, imagine it all as gift. A gift isn’t yours to make, but to receive. Take a moment today, and receive it. Perhaps this is through silence, prayer, or finding a place where you can proclaim that you were there.