It has been a particularly glorious autumn here in Minnesota.
In my front yard, there is a burning bush and every day when I walk past it, the words of a half-remembered poem go through my head—something about not hurrying, something about brightness.
Finally, today, I went and looked for the poem–so that I could get the words exactly right, and so that I could share those words with you.
The poem is called The Bright Field and it is by E.S. Thomas. Here is the part that moves me so:

“ . . . Life is not hurrying
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the light bush . . .”

Yep. Not hurrying, not hankering; but being present, seeing the miracles right in front of me.

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