Don’t ask me why I am alone today,
This day when almost everyone else
Makes an enormous effort to be with family.
It is my choice, for many reasons,
And all is well.
Here I stand, in my own familiar, newish kitchen,
Preparing, without any real need to do so,
The ceremonial dishes of my tribe.
My sense of the presence of those departed is sharper
In my solitude.
I know they come whenever I use this bowl,
Prepare this recipe,
Wait just this long and then do that.
Today there is no chatter to distract me,
No live guests eager for the result
Of this process.
I am more attentive to the spirit.
Lingering in the comfort of the ritual,
My thoughts and gestures start a conversation
With the hovering shades.
They speak in silence—and I listen—
And when they are silent again,
Their lingering blessings remain,
Settling gently in this place,
Leaving it forever changed,
Ever so gently charged with holiness.
by Mary Wellemeyer from the 2003 Skinner House meditation manual How We Are Called: A Meditation Anthology, available from the UUA bookstore (or 800-215-9076) or through the CLF Library (or 617-948-6150).
