You are the first sip of hot coffee in the morning. You are my colt, Bullet napping in the pasture in the winter’s strong warm afternoon sun. You are my children who’ve found joy and love in their lives and work they are passionate about. You are “This is enough; I don’t need anymore.” You are a new novel published and coming off the bookstore shelves steadily, a few at a time, as word spreads.
You are soft thick snowflakes falling outside my window and a soaking rain shower on a hot summer day. You are a rider on the back of a horse riding a wooded mountain trail with horse loving friends. You are the deep sigh when you come to the view at the edge of the world. You are an eagle in flight soaring on invisible currents high in the bright blue sky.
Contentment you are ageless, found in the new born Rose and Emmett wrapped in soft fleece in loving arms, in the toddler asleep and cuddled up with the family dog, in the young girl lost in the pages of a book, in the high school athlete who just spiked the ball over the net, in the couple on the porch of their first home together, and in the elderly man standing at the grave of his beloved, finally released from the pain of disease.
You are friend to all, yet you are fleeting in our busy lives. We have not yet learned how to just be, in the moment, with you. Teach us in the stillness of our hearts and remind us when we forget, losing our way in the torrent of must haves.