This morning's morning light

Late November and a bird

calls for a mate

high in a bare tree.

With a parting of clouds

all seems possible: nest, eggs, chicks

hatched in December, fledged 

in the new year,

song and hope taking wing.

Legit

A little over a week into the fundraiser and we've already reached 20% of our goal of $26,000!

Last night at the mostly-music, mostly-collegekids open mic I decided to try a new poem on them -- a challenging one about Michael Brown. They liked it; heard it. I hadn't wanted to perform really, but now that the universe has in a sense hired me I must accept every opportunity to give my best back.

Albany's Hudson River Coffee House - always packed for Tue open mic

"Hey, that's legit," said a young man when I sat down. Yeah.

Three free pears

Yesterday at the grocery store the cashier couldn't get the scanner wand to read the price code on my package of three organic pears. She tried the usual then called the shift manager who went for another package.

"I don't really need them," I told her. The woman next in line was fidgeting and more people were joining the line. "I mean I wasn't even sure I wanted them." She just looked at me. "I mean, It's okay," I said. I hate holding up the line. I'm the type who swipes my debit card as soon as I can. I help the bagger. I bag if there's no bagger. I'm very polite. I was a convenience store clerk long ago, back in the day as folks say now, and I know how the cold faces and the rudeness can wear you down.

The shift manager wasn't coming. "Really," I said "I don't need them." I had apples and bananas. Canned pineapple at home. I'd be fine.

"Oh just take them," she said, and slid the 3 pears to the bagger who set them in a filled bag. And smiled, a little.

I took them, more for the relief of getting out of the store and unstalling the line. More for the symbolism of it . . . three beautiful yellow pears, unblemished, close to ripe. For me, for my sustenance, for free. Had I become the sort of woman people want to give beautiful free pears to? Was this a portent of abundance to come?

After writing this this morning, I hear from head honcho fundraiser Esther. Almost $6,000 in pledges in her mailbox today, from 3 people. We easily got past the minimum on the checking account opened for the Working Sabbatical. (We'd been worried about that.)

I'm moved to tears with gratitude. What a good day. And a nice ripe pear waiting for me among the apples and bananas in the fruit bowl. Wow.