Benediction

Bless the sailboat's white wings that fly it across the bay
and the feeling of freedom I get as I watch.

Bless the backyard's honeysuckle smell on summer nights
and the feeling that it will always be here to come back to.

Bless the wood carver's hand that gave shape to an ancient
sense of beauty in the village before the bombs.

Bless his Buddhas and water buffaloes and his awe,
which your fingertips found, and brought back to me.

Bless the tongue that can taste lemon and chocolate
and know them both as perfect.

Bless the voices of singers as they become for a moment
pure, reaching for the spirit edge of sound.

Brenda Yates
Copyright 2003