<html class="apple-mail-supports-explicit-dark-mode"><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body dir="auto"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="auto" style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> Awe</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s a shiver that climbs the trellis</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">of the spine, each tingle a bright white</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">morning glory breaking into blossom</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">beneath the skin. It can happen anywhere,</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">anytime, even finding this sleeve of ice</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">worn by a branch all morning, now fallen</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">on a bed of snow. You can choose to pause,</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">pick it up, hold the cold thing in your hand</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">or not. Few tell us that wonder and awe</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">are decisions we make daily, hourly,</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">minute by minute in the tiny offices</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">of the heart—tilting the head to look up</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">at every tree turned into a chandelier</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">by light striking ice in just the right way.</span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><br><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> - James Crews</span></div></div></body></html>