The precious and wonderful 'ordinary' things in life

The “precious ordinary” — two words on a page in a book called “Benediction”.

Not static — not boring or dull — but cupped in the hands.

What is it, this precious ordinary?

The typed letter in the envelope, “pleased to inform you” — the test result is normal.

The grocery store shelf — bottled water and toilet tissue and bread and all the rest there for the having.

A heart that thumps and thumps in a steady beat.

The same old clothes, from the same old people, to throw in the wash — yet again.

A car that starts — with tires that go round and round — and gas in the tank to take me places.

Breath in the lungs — in and out without thinking.

Water — uncontaminated, streaming from the faucet.

Snoring on the other pillow — irksome — still, someone to share life with — someone to wake with.

Feet that take unhindered steps.

Another meal to cook, and maybe it's drudgery — but it keeps the family going.

Rent that's due the first of the month — a mortgage to pay — a house that's there.

A whining, crying kid — I can't stand it — but there's no cancer, no bald head.

Nothing ever happens in this town...and there used to be two towers in the Big Apple, too.

Hands that open and close and grab and hold and lift — everyday hands priceless every day.

A computer screen that lights up — the hum of the fridge — an oven that bakes.

Filling the pill boxes — medicines on the fingertips — health in a swallow.

Alarms that beep and buzz and sing and ding — because it's time to go to work.

And work — always a purpose, and a steady paycheck — love it or not it's worth showing up because I can.

If I have to fix this one more time — putting back together isn't all bad.

A wrinkled face — look at these crepey arms — except I get to get old.

Eyes that see where I'm going — that know a sunrise and an eagle in flight — a familiar face.

A mind that thinks — too much — not enough — but not in a blank, not in a fog.

Studies to finish — I'd rather be playing — yet learning is earning and so much more, millions want it.

Home of the free — this America — open choices and open spaces and don't I like it, yes I do.

The precious ordinary — so many of them — different for everyone — the same for some.

May they last and last until they can't — and may I cup each one in my hands.