The gift has been given
and only awaits
its unwrapping.

Each momentary miracle,
like when that precious blue jay lands in my mind
and then appears in the fountain.

When I envision my dream house
and realize
I already live in it.

When my lover becomes
my very self.

Its essence a balm
like that cool stream
where I rest my weary feet.

These are the unwrapping,
the paper tearing away,
until the gift stands holy before me…

And is me.