WONDER AT A FOX
I sit on the back porch in the morning
battling with my foul thoughts,
struggling against brooding
over some recent dissapointment,
when a fox appears in the backyard
and trots along the tree line,
stopping to look at me a second
when, amazed, I utter "fox,"
calling for my loved ones inside.
And, just like that,
wonder eclipses self-consumption.
Awe, like a gift, breaks pettiness
and I am aware that I am part
of something simultaneously vast
and incredibly intricate.
Gratitude replaces complaint
and darkness is driven back.
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