This day is an open road
stretching out before you.
Roll down the windows.
Step into your life, as if it were a fast car.
Even in industrial parks,
trees are covered with white blossoms,
festive as brides, and the air is soft
as a well-washed shirt on your arms.
The grass has turned implausibly green.
Tomorrow, the world will begin again,
another fresh start. The blue sky stretches,
shakes out its tent of light. Even dandelions glitter
in the lawn, a handful of golden change.
So often promises can be unrealistic and unfulfilled – you know the kind: I promise to finish the dishes later; I promise we’ll take that trip around the world some day; and so on. But this is a promise that is real, grounded in the everyday, this day, the one stretching out before you. This is a promise that’s an invitation: Step into your life, as if it were a fast car, windows down, music playing.
The poet invites us to notice the blossoming trees festive as brides, to be found even in unlikely places, to notice the softness of the air, like a well-washed shirt on your arms – can’t you just feel that? Tomorrow and each day to follow, the world will begin again, with its implausibly green grass, the blue sky with its tent of light. And look at the common dandelions scattered across the lawn, a handful of golden change.
Sometimes it takes a poet to remind us to open ourselves to all that the world has to offer when there is much that we don’t wish to see or hear. But that invitation to step into your life can be just the reminder we need to notice the miracles all around us. Each day holds promise; I promise!