More Room for Joy

We came in carrying the list,
the worry, the racing mind,
the driving, the caregiving,
the boxes open and waiting,
a phone that would not dim, a mind that would not stop.
We came carrying guilt, even the retired among us,
still hearing an old voice say
you could be doing something constructive.

Someone told us energy depletes at a magical age
and comes back more slowly than it used to.
Someone told us life is short,
and resting feels like wasting precious time.

Then, for one minute, we did nothing.

The ordinary world stepped forward:
a rock in a fountain,
feathery leaves outside a window,
birds bathing in a pond,
fireflies that arrive in June,
a vintage toy holding an inscription

nobody had noticed until now.

Thank you, someone wrote.
Some things grow before you see them:
the courage to say no ~ graciously ~
nothing to show for it,
and a little more room for joy.