It's 5:00 A.M.

Peacefulness within and around.  

   Quiet.  

A beautiful amber glow 

   emanates from my Irish lamp.  

Then, for some reason, I notice my legs 

   resting on the open recliner.  

It seems strange to 

   notice the benign.  

Then, in their own bold way, 

   they remind me how they have 

      thus far carried me through life, 

         even to places throughout the world.  

My gratitude grows.  

   Born of bone, sinew, ligament, flesh and blood 

      they are the pillars of my being.  

When I've needed to "stand tall," they were there.  

   When I thought I could "stand no more," they were there.  

So, I'm grateful to and for my legs. 

   Could they have been more faithful?  

      I think not.  

Thank you my pillars! 

My sight drops to the anchors of my pillars, 

to whom I owe an apology.  

I apologize for slamming you into the earth 

   and onto hard surfaces millions of times.  

I can't fathom how you've tolerated that 

   with only an occasional complaint.  

I envy your attitude!  

From funerals to parties and all points between, 

   you've delivered a mobile 

      and transient life. 

Your pillars partnership has been a good one.  

The things I notice when I silently sit surprise me.

~

   

Interpretation (ai):  This poem is about mindfulness and embodied gratitude—taking a moment to thank the body parts we rarely think about but rely on every day. It’s also about the passage of time, resilience, and the wisdom that arises when we slow down enough to notice the ordinary.  It reads almost like a gentle prayer or toast to one’s own legs and feet—an acknowledgment of loyalty and service.