I am going to listen for the water at the edge of things.
—Anne Lamott (quoting a child at her church)

Listen.
I know that walking my neighborhood,
marveling at the show-offy flowers,
spring springing, is a distraction.

I know how much awful we are in,
that the world is in. But I also know
that when it rains, as it did this week,
gentle showers in my corner of the world,

as I walk, I am quiet enough to listen for
the water at the edge of things. I love
walking a labyrinth in rain, amid the patter
of drops, hearing the spontaneous creek

burbling its way to the big river down
the street—even under an umbrella,
this is the blessing, the answered prayer,
if not the answer I was hoping for.

Awful is still awful. But good is still good,
too, and goodness and grace go on. Look
at the splashy flowers, the canopy of trees,
leaves popping out, growing each day.

Is this not reason enough for joy?
Babies celebrating their first birthdays,
Tongue-wagging dogs tugging at leashes,
Smiles of strangers, who, if we stop

for just a moment, say hello and exchange
some neighborly words, are on their way
to becoming familiar. So close to family.
So close to friend.

•••

(With thanks to Anne Lamott for the inspiration and a version of the line
“goodness and grace go on.” And in honor of Rosie Mae Just Giel,
whose first birthday our family is celebrating today.)