The Holy Spirit Wore White Pants: A Poetic Joyful Moment

A sacred little snapshot of sunshine, cats, and casual prayer

a poem about joy, memory, and the holiness of everyday moments

Singing Sun

Singing sun skipping—
seriously, happily—while I sing
along with birds who chirp my song.
Not a single cloud in the sky.

Wearing white,
multi-pocketed pants,
striking random yoga poses
when it feels good to—
hopefully, no grass stains!

Kids laugh, play, live, love.
Cats chase bugs and pee outside.
My number one sidekick,
black kitty-cat Frodo,
has never smiled so wide.

Baby Sprinter lies
beside me
on this pink and gold sparkly blanket.
He helps me read and write
every wild thing I wonder.

The Pacers play soon.
It’s Friday.
66°, 7:38 PM—
so savory, so soft…
mind, hold this memory
forever and ever—
Amen.

In the name of the mother’s (day),
daughters,
and the holy spirit—
amen, amen, amen.

💬 Closing Note:

Some days don’t ask to be remembered—they demand it. This was one of those. Thanks for reading.

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