Equinox Gratitude

My mother's spirit is here with me in the kitchen

as Whitney Houston's "I Love The Lord" blares

five feet from where I chop zucchini and carrots 

for an Italian sausage soup about to be shared 

with my spiritual sisters on this Equinox.  

My daughter is having pancakes out of my sight

in the company of friends who take pictures of her 

picking her nose and send them by text. It's hilarious. 

My spouse is pounding the key board 

downtown in his stark office that in no way reflects

all the grunt, sacrifice, and effort he pours into this city. 

My body is full, aching and intense from carrying a pregnancy

that made itself known on Valentines Day. 

"Love child" in deed. Ever since. Coming forth soon (God willing). 

The sounds and smells and sensations 

of this house

are the sacraments of my life. 

I am/we are this music. 

I am/we are this food. 

I am/we are this seasonal change.

I am/we are this laughter.

I am/we are this social justice. 

I am/we are this third trimester. 

I am/we are this love. This God. This gratitude ongoing.