When Noon Went Dark

On this day,
May 19, 1780,
the sky forgot its brightness.

Noon came wearing midnight.
Candles were lit at tables,
in churches,
in homes where people looked upward
and wondered if the world
was ending.

Perhaps it was only smoke,
fog,
cloud,
fire carried on the wind.

But those beneath it
did not know.

And perhaps that is the lesson:
we often live inside the darkness
before we understand its cause.

We name it judgment,
doom,
abandonment,
the end.

But sometimes
the light has not died.
It is only hidden.

And somewhere beyond the smoke,
beyond the fog,
beyond the heavy cover
of what we cannot yet explain,

the sun remains.

Today Does Not Arrive Loudly

Today does not arrive loudly.
It comes like a gentle hand on the shoulder,
like light through a curtain,
like the quiet reminder
that I am still here.

There is work to do,
but also breath to receive.
There are wounds still mending,
hopes still waiting,
questions still walking beside me
like old friends.

Not every day has to become
a monument.
Some days are simply stones
placed along the path—
small, ordinary,
but enough to say:

I passed this way.
I noticed the light.
I carried what I could.
I let God carry the rest.

I am yet to test #ChatGPT.

Makes me feel like a 🦕 #slowmover