Anticipation

The prism, hanging from the curtain rod, explodes the morning sun's rays into rainbows upon the ceiling, carpet and walls.  As I do, I smile at the rainbows and take my morning walk in the yard to see if there are gifts waiting for me. I am looking for feathers. I do not know why, but finding feathers touches my heart. Each morning, like the Christmas I never had, I go to the earth expecting to find these gifts. Some mornings there are none. Other days they await me in the later hours. Still, each morning I go anticipating what I will find.


The sun's fingers held this tiny gift upright and showered it with light. She knew my eyes struggle to see and so much of the world is a blur.  She made sure I could see this tiny gift.


Sweet Life, would that I, with the same anticipation and glee, see each day as a feather held in the sun's fingers, glistening in light, telling me "Not to worry. Anticipate. I will help you see."