Ordinary

There’s no such thing as an ordinary day.

Did you wake this morning and wash the dust of pharaohs from your feet?
Did you comb your hair free of murderers and saints,
and brush stardust from your eyes?

Did you breathe in salt air off the coast of Maine,air that once filled the sails of pirate ships?
Or taste a Rhode Island summer, thick with the memory of Pilgrims and revolution?
Or wake in the woods of Oregon, where pioneers once passed beneath these same trees?

Or did you simply rise and feel your blood move, steady and miraculous,
ready for one more day?

Did you glance out your window to find the sun
filtering through leaves that were born overnight?

There is nothing ordinary about today.
It is as unrepeatable as your own fingerprints.
It’s magic, sometimes annoying, sometimes divine.

Blue sky or rain,
traffic or birdsong,
a cool breeze, or a dry, hot hush,
silence or singing

It’s all here,
and it’s all yours.

There is nothing

Nothing

ordinary about today.