Offerings

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

I knew the weather forecast,

so I arose early from under my pile of warm blankets

and put the seed and suet cakes

out for them.

I was still in my pajamas (or, something like that).

It was cold. Bitter.

The first flurries –large flakes – were falling.

They rushed in while I was still standing by the

feeders. They too knew what was coming. Somehow.

And, I started my day thinking about offerings:

How they can become so few and scant

in this human-clad existence.

Yesterday, a new friend stopped by for a chat.

I offered her tea and homemade cookies

of peanut butter and molasses

and other fine things from my cupboards.

And, we talked for a brief while.

This was a mutual offering.

What should one do with a life

that is lived with the luxury

of hands and feet

and eyes

and mouth,

but make offerings?

Once the other becomes visible,

How can you not but go to them

with hands outstretched and full?

(Maybe the invisible ones too.)

I am here, again, at my keyboard,

compiling words, wondering how best I can

make an offering of them to you today.

Somewhere among them is an unwritten question

about the presence or absence of something.

Please,

offer it up like the kind of prayer

that you can actually believe in,

like the kind of prayer that can

change

this world.

And, please: gift it to yourself.

© 2014-2016/Jamie K. Reaser

From "Winter: Reflections by Snowlight"
Published by Hiraeth Press
www.hiraethpress.com

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