Love Became Our Country

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And how did it end?

Suffering stormed the air and sorrow seiged our hearts.
For too long, fear had kept us broken and alone,
weakened by the variants of grief. Charlatans
and bullies, bloated men with indigent hearts,
hollow men who fed on greed and lies, stirred
the weak to anger, and then to oppress,
and then to destroy.

We hid and seemed tamed. Silent. 

But all the while, we were healing.
All the while, reaching through the dark,
dreaming ourselves to strength, planting
wild possibilities, creating, creating. 
Creating with fire, we blazed a trail 
back to fierce hope; we united.

And those who could not love
were consumed by its light,
shamed and forgotten,
fair justice from a world
too blessed for their curses,
too free for their fences,
too healed for their disease.

Love transforms when we choose its embrace.
We meet the world with our gifts or lose it.
We learned this and said Yes.
We will love.
End? There was no ending.
There never is with love…
Love is always a beginning.

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I am heartsick for the people of Ukraine. For the conscripted Russian youths. For the world.

I retain my fierce hope that love will win, and believe that, while peace may not return on this side of my life, it will return and flourish. I guard against hatred and wish instead that full awareness and empathy will permeate the hearts and minds of those who have inflicted such suffering. May they feel the pain they’ve created, understand its depths, realize the consequence of their choices, understand other choices were available, and seek forgiveness.

There are many charities and helpers listed on social media and online news sites. Here is where I’m donating today.


© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

The Rare, Tiny Flower: A Child Shall Lead

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022)

A little girl watched
the loud confrontation,
then circled the flower
in slow exploration.
“Please, look again,”
came her calm, patient voice.
“WHY?” cried the screamers.
She smiled. “There’s a choice.”

The Rare, Tiny Flower began as an image of the tiny flower and a small girl defending its mystery, beauty, and right to “find light and grow.” She inherently knows that, frail as it is, it comes with gifts…as does everything and everyone on Earth. We are each tiny, rare, and precious.

I wrote the verse over a year ago in response to the turmoil in my own country, and how it reflected the descent into immature behaviors rising all over the world. People were lashing out, choosing anger, selfishness, name-calling, blaming…all the lower emotional and spiritual human responses to the fear and loss the pandemic brought with its physical destruction and to the mature sacrifices we needed to make to survive and to protect each other.

Behaving from these “lower frequencies” unfortunately, seems the baseline standard for too many leaders and media forums. Most of us cannot counter the darkness their power spreads in the world, or especially the ways it influences our children’s intellectual, emotional, and spiritual formation, except through our own little attempts to choose kindness, love, forgiveness, and openness, in the world, however insignificant our efforts might seem. We can try to live into “small acts of great kindness,” as both St. Therese and Mother Teresa modeled and shared with their times and corners of Earth.

I fail from moment to moment…just this morning, as Phillip and I watched the horrors unfolding in Ukraine, we found ourselves snapping at each other before we caught, released, and named how that evil energy had entered us and momentarily controlled our words and actions. The entire world is frustrated and short-tempered after two years of isolation and loss, but we must, we must retain our childlike willingness to connect with the Other, to interrupt the flow of anger, fear, and greed, to name the truth and offer hope. We can catch ourselves failing and try again.

When I was 7, a move across the country was necessitated by another promotion in my father’s career. We went to our new school and met the principal and our new teachers, received a tour, and sat while our parents discussed ‘relevant parental topics’ with the principal. On the drive back home, Mama turned to us in the back seat and asked, “Well, what did you think of your new principal?”

I replied, “She smiled with her face, but not with her eyes.” My mother was so struck by my response that she remembered it and shared it with me when I was much older and it was long forgotten. But it’s what we do as children, and such honest awareness is one of children’s great gifts to us adults who have “matured” and too often discarded our childlike awareness of the world’s wonder and profound sensitivity to the energy behind the masks adults offer the world and the unconscious subtexts their words offer.

Like the little girl in the story, children have the capacity to be the Great Interrupters, the stunning spirits who call us to pause and, just for a moment, see again the potential, the hope, the magic, and unbelievable uniqueness of our existence and the precious place we call Earth, we call our home. And those are the moments we need, more than ever.

Please, as we witness what cruelty and suffering a childish madman can unleash, let us retain our childlike companions of hope, sensitivity, openness, and a willingness to forgive and love. Let us listen like children and hear the tender, beautiful music from which we were created and that always surrounds us. Let us see with the simple clarity of a child that there are always other choices, always other responses available, and always new ways to use our gifts to create the peaceful world we imagine. And then we must make those choices and create that better world.

Help, however you are able. Gentle peace to you, and thank you for your gifts in the world.

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The Rare, Tiny Flower can be pre-ordered here.

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

The Rare, Tiny Flower: Bullies or Lovers?

To some it looked red,
to some it looked blue.

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022).

And so the world sees, once again and sadly, how a man with twisted emotional development and an unhealed psyche projects the madness stewing in his long-denied shadow upon the world.

My new book, The Rare, Tiny Flower, offers a verse for children that explores how our egoic needs to dominate, possess, and fashion the world in our own image will only lead to discord if we allow fear, sadness, and anger, to make these needs control our better natures. 

Others saw yellow,
but many saw green.
A more puzzling flower
had never been seen!


A number saw umber,
a small group saw teal.
“We see it correctly!
We see what is real!”


Each group insisted
its vision was right.
“Agree it’s magenta,
or we’ll start a fight!”

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022).

In other words, the story shows and reinforces for children (and, I hope for all of us) how behaviors like considering other points of view, offering each other respect, practicing kindness, listening before passing judgment, and welcoming the stranger makes for a better world.

These are not complex concepts, but as adults with advanced language and thinking skills, we create a million different ways to deny and bury their truth and instead rationalize, defend, promote, and force their antonyms upon one another. We surrender our child-like innocence and regress to our most profound needs: me-me-me and mine-mine-mine. Easier choice than maturity.

It’s mustard!
It’s purple!
It’s turquoise!
It’s pink!
It’s chartreuse!
It’s puce!
It’s whatever
we think!

It’s midnight!
It’s coral!
It’s violet-red!
It’s silver!
It’s orange!
You’re weak
in the head!

It’s sweet
periwinkle!
It’s mango!
Maroonish!
It’s white
as a snowflake!
You’re crazy!
You’re loonish!

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: March 26, 2022).

Some of us explore our deepest hurts–and joys–and tend to our continual healing and growth through art, through feeding continual creativity, through self-forgiveness and forgiving others, and–mainly–through faithfully engaging and re-engaging in loving relationships. We try to mend and tend our lives and spirits as we confront our suffering and errors. We risk vulnerability for the rewards of authentic intimacy.

Others of us encrust our inner hurts with more and more grievance and self-pity, building layers and layers of justification for our dark and selfish choices, till we blindly act out, detonating our black pearls in the world. These people are called bullies and risk becoming monsters. Their egos have exceeded and destroyed their humanity and capacity to love. They are like the cyclopes who can only see what they need to see to maintain their false self-images, rather than the wider, real perspective in front of their eyes. What vocation is available for such people but that of a bully? 

Powerful leaders
arrived, striking poses.
“We will not agree!”
And noses met noses.

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022).

 It’s glaringly apparent how despot’s lives are barren of trusted and loving relationships. An authoritarian banishes himself from locating and resting in his heart, let alone admitting anyone or anything else within its shriveled confines. (I love how the Grinch’s heart shrinks and expands according to the love he denies or admits.)

And tragically, the call from a bully-monster’s unhealed shadow attracts others who also refuse, fear, or are too ignorant to explore and heal their own pain. Like attracts like. A monstrous actor with great power gives other bullies-in-training permission to go on poisoning their own unconscious, rather than confront, heal, re-create and choose different ways of being.

The only corrective is to love: to teach, learn, and practice love towards ourselves and others, recognizing that my unhealed pain is yours, and, ultimately, the Earth’s. 

Botanists came
to settle the score,
but couldn’t decide,
so the leaders cried,

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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022).
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~ from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022).

And loving is hard. There’s a reason both love and courage have the same root and are linguistic siblings. Love demands that we confront and limit our desires, that we sacrifice on behalf of others’ welfare, that we transform, that we bare our hearts and spirits for others.

We are all potential bully-monsters or lovers: which behaviors will we choose, feed, and practice? I hope the gentle flower and the little girl in The Rare, Tiny Flower will encourage children to choose the path and actions fueled by love, and will reap all the gifts that choice offers them and the Earth.

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The Rare, Tiny Flower can be pre-ordered here.

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

The Rare, Tiny Flower: How it Began

from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022)

My book, The Rare, Tiny Flower, debuts on April 26, and my friends and collaborators at Tra Publishing and I are excited to share its beauty and timeless relevance with the world.

I wonder if, like me, you’ve witnessed many acts of kindness, generosity, and bravery over the past two years. Perhaps there were times your own community or your family came together to help a person, or another family suffering cruel losses or hardships during the pandemic.

But we’ve also seen examples of global and community divisiveness, of rudeness and anger resulting more from fear than a willingness to come together to maturely solve the many problems facing us.

When fear is a natural response to our experience, what should we do next? How do we respond to mystery and what actions can we rely upon in service to our greater good?

At times, the childlike responses of wonder, friendliness, openness, and delight have been replaced by childish behaviors of selfishness, of needing to be right, however illogical or dangerous the cost. These choices diminish humanity’s power to do good, possibly even to survive.

And our children, of course, are watching. They’re absorbing the language and feelings and interactions around them. Through our choices, we create lessons for them every day, and model them over and over. I became concerned about what the children have been learning regarding how we respond to crises, how we behave during times that are chaotic, how we care for each other when we’re all suffering, and how we manage our fear and disagreements.

I thought about the lyrics to the song, You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught, by Oscar Hammerstein III, for his and Richard Rogers’ musical, South Pacific. What have we been carefully teaching our children during the pandemic, and have we emphasized the lessons we want them to learn?

The Rare, Tiny Flower is my response to these ideas. It’s written in verse, and is profoundly enriched by the amazing illustrations created by Quim Torres.

The story emphasizes peaceful conflict resolution and the dangers of anger and rushing to judgment, exploring instead the ways kindness, listening, reflection, and respect for the Earth–and for our differences and gifts–can bring us together in ways that creatively meet the challenges that face us.

The Rare, Tiny Flower invites us to celebrate our once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of being here at all, but especially, of being here together.

Over the next several posts, I’ll be sharing the poem and illustrations with you, and thoughts about how the book and its glorious illustrations can be shared by parents, grandparents, and teachers with the children they love.

It begins:

Once, in a forest,

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from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022)

a bird dropped a seed.
It wasn’t a sapling,
it wasn’t a weed,
but a rare, tiny flower
that found light and grew.

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from: The Rare, Tiny Flower, (Tra Publishing); by Kitty O’Meara; illustrated by Quim Torres. (Pub. Date: April 26, 2022)

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The Rare, Tiny Flower can be pre-ordered here

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

The Training and Management of Humans (an excerpt)

Lesson One: Identify and Develop Your Gifts Immediately

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By Gracie Louise (aka, Gracie Lulu, Gracie Weezy)

Dear Readers,

Our mother has been very involved with yoga, exercise, meditation, and walking these past several weeks, in an attempt to heal her knee and avoid a “damntotalkneereplacement” surgery. This morning, I had to run behind the couch to laugh quite uncontrollably, as her yoga contortions had resulted in such a ball of limbs I doubted she would extricate herself by nightfall. Apparently, there exists a Complete Knot Asana.

At any rate, I regained control of myself and emerged from my chuckling interlude to ask her if I might help her out by writing a post for the edification of dogs everywhere. I took her grunted responses to be in the affirmative, so I’ve put together some tips from the larger manuscript I’m writing. It’s called, The Training and Management of Humans, and is especially directed towards those living in a multi-canine (or cat) household, although Only Dogs may also benefit, of course. (Usually, they are so spoiled that no further advice is needed.)

Human readers may now leave the room.

My 4-legged friends: Let me be exceedingly perspicuous: This work begins as soon as humans get hold of you. Do NOT waste your brief puppyhood drooling and sleeping, for this is the most important–dare I say crucial–time for eliciting and maintaining the upper paw with your humans. This is the when you must (quickly) learn about your gifts and powers to charm your humans, rendering them in comfortable and happy obedience forever. An obedient human is content and secure; we owe them this.

Here, you see how I let my own heavenly puppy smell and tummy splutch so captivate my mother that I went from being a “foster dog” to her very own adopted Gracie in about 3 days flat. Work it, my friends; find your gift and work it. Mine is clearly Adorableness. It has worked to my advantage from the start, and continues, into my third year of mastery. You will notice that sometimes I play off my siblings’ age and lesser adorableness to more starkly contrast my own dearness. This is a technique I learned early and well, and should be considered by all who are the youngest in the pack.

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I must also add that as a puppy, I developed the unique trait of using my ears to further mark me as Adorable and (seemingly, haha) dependent…look for the ways you might do this as well. Beguile your humans early and you won’t regret the riches this will yield.

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Micky’s puppy gifts, I’m told, were both his resemblance to something called Yoda, and his puppy Inscrutability, a trait he has perfected and still uses to great effect with our humans on a daily basis. He says it confounds them, which weakens their resolve to do anything but ply him with treats. You’ll notice in the last photo how his Inscrutability so well serves him in adulthood: the human hand extends to tickle him; he does not react. This makes the humans work harder to serve us. They desire a playful, jumpy response. It gives them power. I say, “Withhold, like Micky, and remain in control, my friends.”

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Micky also has a unique posture that endears him to humans everywhere. Although he is the middle pup, I will say his special gift is retaining some of his neonatal charm, as seen here, although he hasn’t developed the intelligence (not to put too fine a point on it) to know when to stop whining like an infant and just switch into this pose when he wishes for a specific behavior from the humans.

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Malarky, usually called Larky, is my eldest sibling, and  he has an array of strange gifts that, from the first, befuddled, amused, and captivated our humans, rendering them putty in his paws. For example, he loved to eat tall grasses from mother’s gardens and expected her to sit beside him on the lawn, not too closely, but precisely within one and one-half feet, while he munched like a donkey on straw. Then, he would indicate with a nod and soft bark that he desired her to harvest more. This bonded her in servitude to Larky forever, so far as the rest of us can judge. He needs but to indicate a yearning and mother hops to it with all the energy and blind obedience of, say, an orchestra to its conductor. (Mother forbade me from using political references as similes and metaphors, and, since this is my first post, I will follow her guidance. Another trick in training humans: Follow directions the first time. Lull them into thinking a pattern has been formed.)

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Larky also developed a snarky side-eye glance at a very young age, that stopped mother and father in their tracks and made them doubt themselves and feel foolish, a precarious stance which Malarky used to his great advantage.

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You can see how he still commands attention and–preferably–subservience, as an adult, Indeed, we bow before his mastery. Mother and father know better than to cross him when these looks are delivered. Training accomplished!

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We come next to Dooley, and I confess, we are at a loss, for his first year was a Dickensian tragedy on the streets of Houston, the hellish place for dogs that most of us are from, regrettably. (We thank heaven for the rescue angels who also reside there. And here.) But that is his almost enviable gift, as well, for the sadness of his first year did not dim but burnished his sweetness. He can do no wrong in the eyes of our humans. Here, for instance, is how he responded to the “no sitting on the furniture” rule:

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Father and mother’s response is to sigh and say, “Isn’t he cute?” He is most authentically the Trainer of our humans because there is no artifice. He’s just Dooley and gets his way all the time.

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And now we come to my sister, Teagan, probably the keenest manipulator in all of the canine kin-dom, for she is mistress of our humans’ unconscious and has used this to her–and, I must admit, all of our–advantage since she arrived, a most-desired little girl by our mother. As a puppy she drove mother to distraction by resisting contact and touch for two weeks’ running. Finally, when mother was without hope, Teagan slyly crept into her arms, a trophy-worthy capitulation if ever there were one. Perfect timing, Teagan! I would say her native cunning Cleverness coupled with my Adorableness (and, of course, the boys’ gifts) have made us invincible in terms of running this show. (Notice her daring response to the furniture verboten was to drape herself over the arm of the couch or chaise. Too clever!

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I spoke of Teagan’s mastery of our humans’ unconscious workings. Here is an example: Mother was taught by nuns from childhood through university and, although she loved them and has had many nun friends as an adult, there is a deep “nun archetype” of authority that unconsciously snaps mother into unquestioning obedience. Note how brilliantly Sister Mary Teagan has worked this to her, and our, advantage. Many a laugh–and automatic treat–have resulted. I think it is the suggestion of the veil, but also the stern gaze that makes Teagan the unparalleled artist in this field.

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Teagan has also trained mother through an entire “evening sequence” that we all admire greatly; indeed, we are left breathless at how smoothly it flows, perfectly cued and timed to occur nightly, without a hitch. At 7:00 precisely, mother is reading contentedly, when Teagan approaches and stands up on her rear paws to “sweetly” peek over the foot of the chaise. This causes mother–with no thought process evident at all, so automatically is she trained to respond–to open and spread a blanket in her lap. This is done exactly as Teagan has trained mother to do, for it must be just so, with a perfect pocket indented in the blanket for Teagan’s nestling pleasure. And once Teagan is settled, mother must cross and fold the blanket over and around her as endless practice has perfected, until–success!–Teagan is swaddled cozily in her banky for the evening.

We all watched with amazement as this complex training was accomplished over a series of months. Teagan used the withholding of kisses until rewards were earned; she employed her “nun gaze;” resurrected her puppyhood’s complete indifference (aha! a retreat to mother’s old fear of failing to be loved by Teagan!), and then inserted shrewdly-timed cuddles and “good girl” nudges to provide mother with gentle encouragement and guide her towards completing her arduous training. As you can see, if your training can be broken down into simple steps, oft and calmly repeated, judiciously rewarded, and firmly reinforced, then success will be yours.

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The boys, who are far less exacting, have nonetheless, trained father to accept their nightly presence as well. (I have learned that my Adorableness allows me to rest anywhere I like, though I have not trained our humans with the exactitude of Teagan, the Trailblazer.)

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Although, we have a Recent Development that bears watching. Malarky has begun to leap onto mother’s lap at 6:45, thus edging Teagan out. He may also be attempting the nun-look and failing miserably. Mother, in her peaceful oblivious manner, allows them both to nestle with her, but we can all tell Teagan is plotting, and eagerly await her next move. Larky will likely not know what hit him. And so, we train the humans and vie for power in our pack: the life of canines everywhere.

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Thus concludes the first chapter of my oeuvre on training your humans. There is so much more, of course, to explore and upon which to expound; for example, forming alliances:

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But these will have to wait for another day, as it is time to herd our mother and father out of doors for another walk. Their exercise is so vital, as is their intake of healthy food and water…our work is never done, but it is ever and deeply rewarding, our raison dêtre, as it were. I leave you with these two photos of our humans. Aren’t they darling? Simple, even insipid, but ours, and we love them. We’ll keep training them and protecting them; it’s a good life and they’re doing well. After all…just look at these sweet pictures! You can see how earnestly they believe that they have chosen to feed us. Success!

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A very Happy Valentine’s Day to all!

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© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

The Holiest Moment

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It began, I suppose, at day’s end,
calming yourself before sleep,
reviewing the hours, sifting for
that shimmering moment when
breath and presence and senses
aligned, mirrors circling mirrors
startled your mind into encompassed
awareness, and you paused, irradiated,
ravished like a lover intimate with her own life.
That was it, you said; there was nothing like it
before or after, this was the day’s holiest moment,
and you strung the memory like a jeweled bead
beside the others you’d saved, and rewound the
necklace of chosen insights around your heart
(a miser counting so few coins), glittering and gone:

the burnished paint-spilled sunrise, the shivering
rescued puppy, its joy in finding safe harbor,
your beloved’s voice, eyes, touch, laughter,
the spider’s web, the intentional ant carrying
the articulated leaf, the porcelain bowl of ruby
berries glittering with juice, the kitchen aromas
of your next meal, the rising major chorale or
single minor violin, the whisper of lilac carried
on the rainwashed breeze, the mending embrace
after javelined words carried you too far into pain,
the flash of lightning, or of anger rightly piercing
lies, the unexpected kindness, the stranger’s smile,
the uprush of birdsong, and then finally one night,
old as you are, you see blessings like shining stars
everywhere, and every moment is a holy moment
known, lived, and released, so you set down the task
of sifting through and singling out and only breathe
into them, and you kneel, whispering, “grateful,
only let me be grateful, now and now and now…”

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© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.