Possibly there's enough bread left
and I won't have to shop. I'm hoping I'll get
the chapter written and the poem will come out
right. If I am lucky, the phone won't ring
all day and the computer will obey me
and not go blank like my mind does.
If all goes well, the slugs will drown blissfully
in their saucers of beer. Maybe the deer
won't eat the tulips. Perhaps it will rain
enough for the dwindled creek to run
again, sibilant, and then may the rain
stop tomorrow, leaving only a pleasing
liquid bubble and blur to thread the ravine.
If seh is brave, my daughter will someday
find the self within herself. If I am blessed,
she will forgive me. If the meteorologist
is right, the dry muscle of cold wind will weaken
and again we'll swing the windows wide.
--Luci Shaw (1928- ), Christian poet, from What the Light Was Like, 2006
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