tiny bricks of beauty

Have you had the chance to do much art lately?

I ask my artist friend as she chats 

confidentially with her toddler on her lap,

which is blossoming with baby belly

under her bright pink shirt.

Not too much, she replies, 

Just surviving and getting ready for baby,

but looking forward to nursing as a time for inspiration.

Yeah, I reply, It’s that quiet contemplative time 

that is the source of inspiration for sure.

An openness to the divine, she replies, 

That’s where art comes from.

I want to tell her that right now 

she is cooperating with the most divine creation there is—

that of a human life—the artistic triumph of the world, 

a piece of art that is by its very nature immortal

but I get interrupted by one of my kids who needs a new towel.

So I can’t tell her that she is weaving with sinews of love

painting with brushstrokes of hope

writing with stories strung on tiny ropes of DNA

forging new paths for faithfulness

strengthening family bonds with tiny bricks of beauty

cells diverse and unique 

splendidly forming into 

a new child of promise.