By Abigail Taylor
My definition of
home is not a building,
but sacred space between
people that love one another.
Change is thrilling and frightening.
Change ushered in a solar eclipse,
to which earth and its inhabitants
swayed along, crickets awakening,
children laughing about the absurdity,
and even made me weak in the knees–
radiating thankfulness for my very existence,
realizing my smallness, a fleeting a speck of dust,
— what a miracle that I’m worthy of witnessing the awe,
in the presence of other beings exerting the same kind of thanks
and love. My home is the area in which I put my love;
it is the area in which I cultivate it, with honesty,
with understanding, with calming breaths
made of gratitude, so that I can give
my presence to those that need it
beauty to those that seek it.
Making my blink of a life
one worthy of having
Sept. 1, 1951 – Annular solar eclipse is viewed from Grandfather Mountain’s Cliffside Overlook.
© Abigail Taylor 2017.