Words of WonderSplendor - Thomas Centolella

One day it’s the clouds,
one day the mountains.
One day the latest bloom
of roses—the pure monochromes,
the dazzling hybrids—inspiration
for the cathedral’s round windows.
Every now and then
there’s the splendor
of thought: the singular
idea and its brilliant retinue—
words, cadence, point of view,
little gold arrows flitting
between the lines.
And too the splendor
of no thought at all:
hands lying calmly
in the lap, or swinging
a six iron with effortless
tempo. More often than not
splendor is the star we orbit
without a second thought,
especially as it arrives
and departs. One day
it’s the blue glassy bay,
one day the night
and its array of jewels,
visible and invisible.
Sometimes it’s the warm clarity
of a face that finds your face
and doesn’t turn away.
Sometimes a kindness, unexpected,
that will radiate farther
than you might imagine.
One day it’s the entire day
itself, each hour foregoing
its number and name,
its cumbersome clothes, a day
that says come as you are,
large enough for fear and doubt,
with room to spare: the most secret
wish, the deepest, the darkest,
turned inside out.

Thomas Centolella


Today, on the autumn equinox of 2019, it was the warmth of the sun and the golden light, all the more precious in its ‘end of summer’ feeling. And yesterday it was thousands of children, parents, grandparents and other lovers of life singing in the streets in what one sign called ‘The Revolution of Belonging’. Right now it’s the gladness for the mindfulness community, practising care for self and others in ever widening circles. Let’s take in the good!

Photo by Marie Bellando Mitjans on Unsplash