Yesterday I savored a video of my two-year old grandson coloring eggs, bright blue, red, yellow, orange, green. His fingers were colored like tiny rainbows, blended, blurred.
Yesterday I saw a rainbow, not really a bow, more a prismed blend, which perhaps reflects all that’s happening these days. There’s no clear arch.
Where does one come to rest?
I rest my sit bones on the chair, move back and forth, side to side, feel my jaw respond, my eyes.
I wiggle my nose like a bunny and nibble a carrot. It’s Spring and eggs and color are everywhere.
Even among the tragedies unfolding on the earth, may we pause for a moment, and sit in colored curves.