I read The Writer's Almanac most mornings. It features a poem of the day and biographical notes about famous people born on that day and some historical events. Yesterday's poem "Stay" by Kim Addonizio included a pair of lines that struck me as open-hearted and inspirational:
Listen: when a stranger steps into the elevator with a bouquet of white
roses not meant for you,
they're meant for you.
This wasn't the first time that Kim Addonizio got my attention. This time, too, I looked up a bit about her.
She ends her poem with lines quoted above. I like them since they invite me to see a bouquet of roses meant for someone as a gesture of love and appreciation or maybe apology or maybe celebration. I feel grateful that I belong to a species that can feel and express such feelings, that knows the feelings for what and when they are.
I can't always find a feeling of participation in others' joy and fun and gladness but often I can if I try. When it is your bar mitzvah or graduation or your retirement, I get to be glad for you and for me and for us all. Not everyone gets or got to reach that point in life. It's an achievement and a good one.
When I see those gorgeous roses, I remember times when I found some knockout flowers like that for an important person or a big occasion. When I see a joyful toast, as in The Student Prince, I can taste the beer and feel the energy and zest.
