Sometimes, it is the slightest sign

of some good thing that brings

the notion of a better change:

the pale stem of a rainbow

cast against the clouds of the storm,

stroked in the softest notion of color,

the forming of dew on a foggy morning,

caught in the mist of webs

close against the ground-creeping wintergreen,

sparkling like hope in first light,

or maybe the particular way that the sun

catches on a sycamore

stark and gleaming

against the bruising sky.

Sometimes, it is the softest hello

spoken in a voice of caring

and the way your eyes carry

the unspoken greeting of deeper concern,

the way a hand lies but briefly

on your shoulder in that quiet moment

in the kitchen

between dawn and duty,

or a simple note

written in that instant of gratitude

for some small thing done

for no reason

other than the wanting to.

In such moments and such things,

we are blessed in both the giving

and the receiving.

H. Arnett

8/16/11