The Magnificent

The day is leaving beauty in my wake.

The down comforter is folded over and barely touching the floor. The gray, ethereal light at my open window. The brush of air from the fan wakes the small and misplaced feathers that are caught in the carpet. And the ones flopped over, against my knees.

Cold. My feet on the carpet, on the wood, on the tile, in the warm water.

My wavy and damp hair pulled up, the most recalcitrant pieces falling around my neck, and ears. The naked skin of my face, its imperfections and perfections. Left as they are.

Vanilla tucking into the white of my tank top. The mix of mocha and hazelnut in my coffee. Hot on lips, warm in mouth.

The robins- who have taken a liking to the tree outside my window- murmur back and forth, back and forth. And when I sing, I think they listen.

White porcelain in hand, feet light:

“and at once I knew I was not magnificent…..I could see for miles, miles, miles.”

But I feel magnificent. I can only see as far as the window allows me, but I imagine much more.

And I hold the warmth closer now, against my hands, against my chest.

My feet gone, now.

And I’m a thousand miles away. A thousand stories away. A thousand memories and kisses and laughs and joys away.

The robins, and the gray, and the music, and the warm bitter against my tongue, and the smooth of porcelain all blending. All blending into something beyond human. Beyond beautiful.

Now is something untouchable. Something safe. Something given to me from someone Greater.

My heart pushes against the borders: open, open, opening, into the most delicate. She fills all the space between here and the closed door. And I know what it means to be unfolded.

The down comforter is beneath me. The gray, ethereal fills my room. The air brushes back recalcitrant pieces of hair from my face. The naked skin of my face, its imperfections and perfections. Left as they are.

The day is leaving beauty in my wake...

And at once I know it’s all magnificent.