most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birthday of life and love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any-lifted from the no of all nothing-human merely being doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings

I found e.e. cummings when I was burned out on Scripture and the Church, jaded that different sects could cherry pick their way to justify any stance under the sun. He mesmerized me with his disjointed syntax, piercing imagery, and careful dance toward gratitude. 

I read and re-read i thank you god for most this amazing day hundreds—thousands—of times until I knew it by heart.

He offered unorthodox syntax for an unorthodox season in my life. My identity shrinking like his lowercase “i’. The lowercase, god, giving me permission to be unsure but grateful anyways. But now I see God was uppercase all along—in the poem, in my life. I saw what I wanted to see and Grace met me there.

After every salty ocean run in college, I would whisper my thanks for most this amazing ocean, for most my amazing body.

On our wedding day we had the poem read, giving thanks “for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes,” por supuesto, I do.

My husband gifted me the poem printed in swooping ETSY calligraphy when I was trapped in the hospital with scary blood pressure readings days after my daughter’s birth.

Now at the park with my kids, many sun’s birthdays later, I scan for “leaping greenly spirits of trees.” I delight in a “blue true dream of sky.” 

I cling to the fits of unwarranted compassion. I recite the idiosyncratic syllables for comfort. I repeat the phrase until I mean it.

i thank you God for most this amazing____________

It’s not toxic positivity. I hold space for the bad; I get stuck there too often. But at my end, the phrase echoes with my breath, like a pulse, as a prayer.

i thank you God for most this amazing life, birth, body, moment. For the freckle just below my son’s eye. For the way the light filters through dappled leaves. For the crunch and melt of summer s’mores. For the damp heat of my daughter’s cheek on my chest. For friends who ask, how are you doing, really? For a thousand unfinished sentences shouted at playdates. For my family all in one city. For Nana at school pick-ups and Papa fixing toys. For Yaya sleepovers and cousin McDonald’s outings that I hear about when I’m at work. For popcorn pajama parties. For my husband’s texts: I got milk… I got bread …I got soap… (I got you.) For quiet mornings of writing and hot coffee. For not-quiet mornings when I yell then get to ask forgiveness. For the chance to start again. For “I love you mama’s” and “it’s otay.”

For “i who have died am alive again today.”

Most this amazing.

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This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "A Question".