With nothing left to give,
there is only to receive.
To walk, open-palmed,
hands shaking,
praying only that what
is place in my lap
is laid down gently.
When I do gather the courage
to open my eyes to see
what I’ve been granted,
I’ll be surprised by the familiarity of it.
I fear the rain because it
comrpomises my plans,
the snow because it
limits my freedom.
But notice, the overflow—
there is a spectacular genius to the gifts we’re given.