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A small black dot
did it.
Stopped me
mid-step,
amid busyness.
And, for an instant,
we were riveted—
or, maybe, only I
was.
The little black circle,
perfect,
simple,
in field of smooth gray
feathers:
the eye
of an Eurasian Collared Dove—
compels me
to stop,
at least momentarily,
but why?
I don’t stop long enough
to ask;
I only marvel,
fleetlingly,
at the beauty
in such simplicity.
It is just now,
three days later,
that image
returns
in my mind’s eye
and I stop
to ask what it is
about simple beauty
that arrests.
And,
on this Holy Thursday,
it comes:
Force of Goodness,
Astonishing Love,
manifesting
in the eye of a dove.