Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?
Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?
When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life –
What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?
~William Stafford, “You Reading This, Be Ready” from Ask Me
Nearly ten years of daily writing here in this spot:
I have met many people who I will never meet face to face but who share with me
their love of the land,
and most of all —
What do I want to remember?
Mostly, I want to remember your light and love as it finds its way through the darkest and thorniest corners of my life:
a kind word, a silent tear, a crooked smile, a whispered prayer.
What do I want you to remember having visited here?
I want you to remember
there is warmth in these words
and colors in these photos
that don’t come close to what it is like for real.
Mostly, I want you to know that each morning,
I send out this love to hundreds I’ll never meet,
but who are nevertheless my Barnstorming brothers and sisters.
Carry me with you and pass the light forward.
You never know where it might end up.