In my imagination,
I twirl around,
Effortlessly graceful,
My skirts billowing out around me
Like light fluffy clouds.
In my imagination
I am a dancer.
In my imagination,
I play the piano, the guitar,
The flute,
Easily moving from one to the next
And brilliantly playing the music in my heart…
In my imagination,
I am a musician.
In my imagination,
I sing and the world listens,
I sing like an angel,
Like a bird,
A golden-throated bird,
For all to enjoy.
In my imagination,
I am a singer.
In my imagination,
I sweep my hands
Across a blank canvas
And it becomes a beautiful landscape
Or a portrait
Of a mood,
Brilliant colors,
Exciting the brain
And pleasing the eye,
In my imagination,
I am an artist.
But those are not my gifts.
And I feel the failure
Rising hard up in my throat
As I imagine doing all of these wonderful things
As I visualize the reality
Of trying and failing miserably.
Until I remember
That God has given me gifts, too,
The gift of making things with my hands,
Crocheting and knitting, weaving and sewing,
To keep others snuggly warm
in the coldest of winter.
The gift of warmth wrapping around them
like a blanket of love.
The gift of love wrapping around them
like a blanket of warmth.
The gift of throwing meals together
On the spur of the moment but always tasty,
Knowing that you are always welcome
And will always enjoy a good meal at my table.
The gift of listening thoughtfully
The gift of quiet friendship
The gift of the written word,
The gift of writing so that you know
That others feel what you feel
And think what you think
At war with themselves.
As I think of myself,
That I have no talents
Others feel the same about themselves
And need the encouragement
To look up--
To give themselves grace
As God gives it to them,
To see themselves
As God sees them--
Beautiful, talented, loving,
Imperfectly human
But every one his son or daughter--
Graceful
And full of grace,