The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
The farm belonged to her family. Her neighbors growing up were her cousins. Her dad had built their house with his own hands. There was so much love bursting from this place that when you stepped onto the property you knew your were stepping on sacred ground.
As we explored the farm, Kira talked of her childhood. Afternoons were spent in the creek…in the fields…climbing trees. Through out the afternoon, even as an adult, she still wasn’t afraid to run through the fields…to jump on the vines…to wrap up in a cozy blanket and kiss the love of her life. Her spirit and joy of being home where she belonged was made even more apparent by her adoration of Mark.
Weeks later…I am certain it was not the perfect light…nor the ancient trees…nor the horses in a field of wildflowers…that made this session so beautiful. It was seeing beauty and life in the world. It was peeking into two hearts together that love in the moment in a wild and precious life.
Thank you Kira and Mark… Thank you…thank you.