terrypetersen

I dwell in possibility… (Emily Dickinson)

As I sweep the kitchen floor my head sweeps through thoughts about something tinier than dust particles. The article I am reading in National Geographic says an ape’s DNA is 99% the same as a human being’s DNA. And the pages expand into names for genes. Specific numbers. Symbols for magnificent, infinitesimal differences.

And possibilities.

The facts debunk the notion that race is more significant than skin color. I live in an integrated community. Move? No way. Not with neighbors willing to help my husband and me, obviously older folks. What shade is their skin? Anywhere from peach to ebony.

A wave across the street. A hug. Come by for coffee. My husband may offer a beer. If only I could transport the experience to other parts of this country. Sometimes I don’t realize how blessed I am.

Do I see their different colors? Of course. The same way I see the color of the tulips before the deer eat them, the variations of color inside my husband’s favorite Columbine in spring. Depths both inside and outside.

reprinted from my blog published on March 3, 2019