A poem for those hot summer morning walks, when the only things worth walking for are beauty and breezes.
When the sun hides beneath a blanket of clouds and the muggy air squeezes the breath from my chest I look for a breeze anywhere anyhow as heat seems to rise from the cracks of the earth I don't care what the calendar says summer arrived ages ago and even though I'm melting like an ice cream cone I'll look for the beauty I know will be found
Beauty grows in the ordinary, yes, but beauty also grows in unexpected places. This poem is for all of us, stuck in the traffic of life, needing to reroute. There are surprises off the beaten path!
We were stuck in traffic on the interstate, hours away from home, inch by inch we crawled, minutes ticked into an hour, until finally we were able to exit and take an alternate route, driving along unfamiliar back roads, through small towns with crumbling buildings, collapsed structures that reeked of neglect and poverty... and then we made a pit stop, a shabby gas station in a broken down town we found treasure not made of gold. The employees were light in a gloomy space. They laughed and bantered and welcomed. The cashier smiled warmly at us, an unforced rhythm of grace. She exuded life. It floated from her pores and touched everything, everyone around her, lifting spirits, relaxing shoulders, coaxing smiles. Flowers grow from cracks in cement. Colorful blossoms dance along roadside ditches, and beauty grows in backroad gas stations, where light shines like a beacon of hope.
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