Today is always a mystery
Plans that I have, routines that are
~ well, routine ~
get shifted unceremoniously with
a phone call,
an email that needs answering,
or the sun calls me out to play.
Because I reside in each moment,
to ignore these mysteries would be rude.
Or perhaps, like today, the mystery was
Why has this day been so unwrinkled?
There was a time ~ maybe yesterday ~
when, if my rigid rhythm had gone awry,
I would have been annoyed.
Today, I allow the mystery to wrap around me.
“Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be.”
~ Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls
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