a certain lightness

there's a certain lightness in me these days
maybe its something to do with love
in all the shapes its taking
and all the ways it is coming out to play

in the fingering of generational fabrics in cedar chests
and the laughter of family over the dinner table
in the 12-hour nights asleep in my childhood bedroom
and the removal of gunk-covered glasses so i can see at face value
in the incongruity of meyer lemons grown in a house on the west side
and the coziness of gathering around the wood stove with adoptive family
in the swelling sounds of folk music mixes filling my bedroom
and the savoring of the cadence of his voice across the phone lines
in the permission to be messy and scattered incompleteness
and the grace of godly people to embrace me when i've been hurt
in the spaces of hope, dreams, and joy widening inside me

yes, there's a certain lightness
and this is the laughing dancing time (Ecc 3:4)

Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:16-17)