The Day After

"The Day After"

Turns out, kindness was 
not on the ballot yesterday. 
Turns out, we were never 
casting a vote for kindness or no kindness. 

For I woke up this morning and there it was, 
right where I left it yesterday on my kitchen table—
my favorite mug, empty now, ready to be filled again. 

Kindness. 

I walked outside and it was still hanging in the morning sky, 
a silvery white crescent in the west refusing to go down, 
a soft orange glow in the east refusing not to arrive. 

Kindness. 

I turned around and there it was, bounding down the steps 
behind me on four furry legs, a ball in its mouth, 
its snout pointed upward at the soft breeze. 

Kindness. 

I walked back inside and there it was in my son's bed. 
At 13, already it is taller and lankier than me, 
but somehow it still looks like me. 

Kindness.

I am so glad you are still here, I said.
So young, yet such an old fool, it replied.
Where else would I be if not where you are?

I went back outside and pointed my feet in every direction.

Author: David Pierce

I'm the one on the left. That's my favorite part on the right. I'm an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA) and the United Church of Christ. I work as Minister to a parish community in Cumberland, RI. That I could also see myself as a farmer, a cowboy, or Thoreau sitting pond-side at Walden is probably not insignificant. I don't blog about anything in particular, but everything I blog about is particularly important to me. That it may be to you as well is good enough for me. View all posts by David Pierce