right hand pointing


     
     
 
Corey Mesler
  
 
 
Opening
     
 

The door is opening.
 A child emerges.
 It’s our child.
 We vow to begin the
 day as if it were
 our best engine.
 The child’s eyes are
 full of life.
 We believe it is our
 life. The door
 stands open.
 The light coming through
 is soft as gathered wool.
 Our hold on the day
 is precarious.
 We gather briefly to
 pray, to say the
 old words again.
 The world briefly cracks
 open, an egg.


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