About fifteen minutes ago, I put on my coat and shoes and, mitten-less, I clutched the ten pages or so in my hand as I briskly walked the five minutes over to the DeVos building. I kept my eyes on the lights still on in the building, hoping it was open despite that campus had pretty much cleared out for Thanksgiving break. I stepped through the doors with ease, and with a surge of energy hiked up the stairwell and down a long hallway to that professors' office. I slid the completed project into the box on her door, double-checked again that it was in fact her office, and turned on my heel to head home.
Feeling a sense of relief that I haven't felt in weeks, the rush of cold air actually felt refreshing. For the first time I noticed the beautiful sunset. I noticed the stars peeking out through the seams of the dark sky. The sight summoned gratefulness out of my heart.
This poem by e.e. cummings suits the moment perfectly. (I found it on another blog recently. I happen to love e.e. cummings, and this poem actually makes "sense" compared to others! ;)
Enjoy.
who are you
who are you,little i
(five or six years old)
peering from some high
window;at the gold
of November sunset
(and feeling:that if day
has to become night
this is a beautiful way)
- ee cummings
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2 comments:
Yes, this is so nice Betsy!
I remember turning in work like that... and the wonderful feeling of completion! Congrats!
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