An Enlarging Heart

9pm,
Monday night,
& I'm on my knees deep cleaning this nook of a kitchen,
with a too-small rag in my hand scrubbing these story-filled, old wooden floors, & the vinyl spins & crackles lullabies that befriend me, & in the next room a kind-eyed husband reads & dreams on the couch & the love & the rest between us is so thick I can feel it in my very bones.

I’m on my knees,
Outwardly & inwardly,
Bowed down in flesh & in heart,

As I hear a whisper that tells me "the holiest & the deepest work is done with outstretched hands & a knelt down heart".

I'm scrubbing.
I'm sweeping
I’m settling slowly on the truth that the profound is bound to the ordinary & bound to be discovered when sought with a humble & knelt-down heart.

A thought beautiful enough to keep this young, dreamer of a wife awake tonight—thinking of how little she knows & yet how deep she feels & how immeasurable the love in her soul for the man she wed & the children that are not yet here, but somehow already occupying a part of her heart that is enlarging by the day.