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how could i not have been aware of their magic?

[kelle]

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I can see it. I don't know if I'm worthy of it, but I love this vision, I don't want to let it go, I want to build it. I see a butter dish with flowers on it, a fist clutching tulle, and I see beauty spread before me like a feast. I want to bring all good things together before this man shouting in laughter, heaving in death, this woman shrouded in wisdom, writhing in in labor. Cloud by day, fire by night.
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I want to make a life, a beauty, that is an altar, heady and rich, cold stone and crusty mortar, reeking of dust, of blood, of flower stems broken. I want to sing all my days and mean it. I want to warm people to the core. I want to create and build and birth, and laugh at the time coming. It's too good to be true. But isn't everything? I read that once.
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I woke up from a nap on the couch, and I heard some of the girls celebrating the plum ice cream someone made, and I thought, I love these people. They are so inventive, so ready to cultivate everything they have been blessed with, so tenacious of spirit. They are like this wherever they go, they carry it with them like a pair of shoes, like a prayer. They have given me a glimpse of the kind of eternity I want to be a part of. One long, uninterrupted look at the goodness of growing, of cooking, of eating, of community. How could I not have been aware?