Gifting

Day 7
Summon joy like you would a child; call it home. It wanders, yes. But it’s still yours.

The present, delivered in a dream, comes wrapped in an expandable box.
Brown paper and kite string offer few clues, but your touch turns
it blue, then yellow, then spring onion green, rectangle, octagon, a large
cube, a slim jewel box, first joy is in what changes shape in your hands.

Imagine it. The pleasure of guessing is its own delight. A Penny-Bright Doll?
An aquamarine pendant? The blue three-speed bicycle? The Yamaha Guitar?
How fine point pens and good paper equip a year. How bath powders and
body creams inspire luxury, how Laura’s raspberry jam makes you squeal.

You remember a book you read by Lewis Hyde once(The Gift), itself a gift that takes
this dream off market, and simply suggests you keep it moving
along, these words, given today, a gift by virtue of the sharing. Or something
like that. You let the winds blow through you, the creative moment its own reward.

The present, delivered in a dream changes shape, dispenses delight, a fragile
kite string hand- off—loneliness to love, given not sold, received in wonder.
It wanders to find a home in your open heart. May we exchange our gifts
these April mornings, this presence — jewel-toned moment, broadly smiling.