I thought it would rain this morning… but at bus time, the clouds folded in, holding their breath, for one duck. One duck, center stage, danced across the canvas of the morning, the clouds holding their applause, while he plowed a wake.
We – woman, man, child- so want to make a difference; our clumsy attempts often piling up like refuse; sometimes leaving scars and scrapping our vows to ‘do no harm.’
The lake is near 400 ft deep in places, places right out there under the duck. It should take a dam; so it seems startling that one duck could plow such a wake, turning it at will. Apparently there is power in webbed feet and winged prayers.
Spirit of God, hold up my winged prayers. Lift them to the heavens and stretch their weight along the trajectory of your leaning. Only for you, do the clouds hold their breath. Only for you. Amen
photographer’s note: I left the power lines…one duck.
jfig/11/18
Roasted Words 