A reflection on Ecclesiastes 12:
I’m trying to wrap my mind around creation.
I look at my babies for insight
not babies anymore
making worlds with their words
with a logos-like ferocity and will
saying for Thomas the Train “puff puff puff”
and my mind turns to temporality and fragility
water sliding off my skin as I do dishes
looking out the window at the droplets of sun on this winter’s day
but no snow covers the ground
the dirt and dust are ever present with us to remind me
we will someday disappear with a puff,
and I remember my createdness, my creatureliness, my creator.