precision

it's precision, probably
that makes me wonder
what to call those
black birds teeming
on the power lines above
the empty field. As one
they leap from their
perch and swirl over
the yellowing grass
like a cloud of bees.
Are they swallows? Sparrows?
Even if I knew their name
I would not have words
to describe the grace
of their flight, nor
the wonder of their unity.

fortunes

So, I was in a doubtful, confused, disoriented mood earlier today when I headed home for lunch. Kevin is moving up in the world, which increased my sensitivity to my directionless-ness, and Laura published some poetry, which increased my feelings of inadequacy in the creative realm. I prayed all the way home.

I felt immediately better when I saw my kids, Emily waved at me. I know they are the most important thing, and the best part of my life no matter what.

Then I saw the fortune cookies on the counter; I thought maybe there would be something pertinent to my current situation written in there: some direction, some answer to prayer. With anticipation, I opened my cookie and read this surprising fortune:

a wise lumberjack always has a sharp saw.

Traci's was more pertinent:

look to the future, but not so far that you miss the present.

Moral: God does not always answer prayers through fortune cookies.