A Moment to Stay
The bell comes before I’m ready--
as I move through moments,
I thought would hold.
It meets me in the middle of moving on
between forward motion
and memory.
It doesn’t call out.
It doesn’t demand.
It just waits,
a small opening
where I stop,
and let the moment be.
A child came with very little;
no wealth, no welcome.
Only a tenderness held in trust.
Love came without protection,
and it was not lost.
The bell doesn’t leave.
It waits.
I don’t have to move.
This Christmas;
I take a moment,
I hear it clearly,
I stay.
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