Rough-hewn stones dangle from her ears
and glimmer under our lamp.
She slides a bracelet from her collection—
all handmade and new.
She lifts one gently,
the pieces of topaz dance into our son’s palm.
His eyes widen.
He rubs the smooth stones,
studying their marks
She drips sweet cinnamon
their aromatic scents mingle,
filling the atmosphere with calm.
She lends laughter
like popcorn breaking the silence.
We feast from her joy,
lifting our bowls for more.
When friends or strangers lift their empty cups,
She pours freely,
wrapping them with her warmth like gauze.
She creates beautiful things,
and sets them in empty fields
for the forgotten to find
and to carry off for the one’s
Behind the Poem
I had stared at my laptop screen for over an hour, mincing my brain for a way to address the current pandemic. To be honest, I’ve been at a loss for words. Though I plan on sharing more Biblical insight into it soon, I wanted to pause and to share something prose would have a hard time conveying.
Over the past year-and-a-half, a lot has been happening. My father and my wife’s mother have been battling cancer. I’ve struggled through anxiety. A pandemic has hit, shifting the world around us. Education has evolved, making my job as a teacher vastly different.
But my wife generates joy and beauty, sprinkling it to everyone around her.
She gives freely, looking for opportunities to love on others.
This poem is dedicated to her Christ-like heart, her joy, and her love for all of us.