Ribbons of tan span the quarter sized button. A tiny river of movement frozen, cut with a button cookie cutter and pierced with four tiny holes. Neutral. Waiting. My fingers hold it up to the light and access what insight it will bring to this end of summer day that is anything but neutral in it's heat and humidity.
I play with the button inbetween playing with the babes and doing chores. There is so much to do but I, too, feel neutral. Waiting. Frozen in place. I feel pierced by the end of a seasonal income, a bill on the kitchen table that is bigger than my bank balance for work needed to hold up the porch of my hundred year old home. I feel like a river in my sing song ambivalence about whether to stay or sell. And so the day goes. Evening comes and it is time to move the button from my pocket to the "done"jar. Time to give thanks and let the day go. And as I slip this thin, tan notion from my fingers into the jar at my bedside, I imagine the journey this button has been on through the years and the possibilities it, and I, still hold.
And so, at the end of this day I find that this button has given me something else to hang onto. I am filled with the gift of hope. Thank you tan button.
No comments:
Post a Comment