BLESSING

After a scene in Gilead, a novel by Marilynne Robinson

                                       

I was walking from my neighbour's farm

one early autumn afternoon – 

practising mindfulness –  

and I turned in hope

that a retrospective glance

might show me a detail,

a fresh fragment 

of meaning for my journey.

The road was cool and clean:

behind me in the distance

were two young lovers.

The man turned, smiled

and pulled a branch

that overhung the road

and as his partner walked beneath

he let it go and so it sprang,

chilling her with remnant droplets

of the morning rain. 

Her shower was a baptismal blessing.

I had set out searching

for a renewed appointment

for my soul and found

in their liveliness,

in the happiness of her face,

refreshment, grace.