My customary January insomnia has begun, but I’m combating it today, as I write, by sitting in the hot sunlight pouring through my bedroom windows. It’s a gorgeous day, 8 degrees, as it was yesterday, when I saw a young man walking along in shorts and a hoodie. In January. In Toronto.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
P.S. Biked to the St. Lawrence Market instead of a walk, so no wood drakes, but some meat from a small farm for a stew. It’s colder than it looks out there, so I’m heading to yoga anyway. May you all have a marvellous Saturday, not forgetting that above you are the day-blind stars, waiting.