Trust ~ Thomas R. Smith

It’s like so many other things in life
to which you must say no or yes.
So you take your car to the new mechanic.
Sometimes the best thing to do is trust.

The package left with the disreputable-looking
clerk, the check gulped by the night deposit,
the envelope passed by dozens of strangers—
all show up at their intended destinations.

The theft that could have happened doesn’t.
Wind finally gets where it was going
through the snowy trees, and the river, even
when frozen, arrives at the right place.

And sometimes you sense how faithfully your life
is delivered, even though you can’t read the address.

November has arrived, and with it winter. Frost is on the ground every morning, and daylight hours shrink with each passing day. This morning, I found my thickest wool gloves and hat at first reach, which proved to be lucky – it felt winterly cold enough to warrant both.

Four babies arrived last week, Clun Forest/Shetland, and joined the rest of the flock out on the pasture today. Bowie, my livestock guardian dog, wandered among the sheep, brokering various disputes and causing new ones. Morning frost melted as the sun rose, and as the day warmed up under blue skies, I began to doubt my morning preparations of pulling out the hayracks for this evening’s chore: hay for the flock’s dinner . Then great grey clouds marched up the valley, bringing sleet and snow showers.

It’s just about four in the evening now, and the sun has dipped behind Bunker Hill, which means that I have about an hour of daylight left in which to finish up evening chores. Two loaves of french bread sit on the hearth, rising gently in its warmth. There is some leftover squash from the batch I roasted two nights ago – bread and soup for dinner. I see that both the house cat and the barn cat have taken up their respective haunts at this time of evening: front porch door, back door. It’s their dinner time now, and this is how they let me know.

This poem, which has been rattling around in my head for the past few days, seems appropriate for how I feel at this particular moment…a life, my life, has been somehow faithfully delivered.