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<blockquote style="position: relative; padding-left: 55px;"><section><a href="https://mastodon.online/users/SRDas/statuses/113121144826286403">Das (srdas@mastodon.online)'s status on Saturday, 14-Sep-2024 06:04:36 JST</a><a href="https://mastodon.online/@SRDas" title="srdas@mastodon.online"><img src="https://gnusocial.jp/avatar/90667-48-20230124013017.webp" width="48" height="48" alt="Das" style="position: absolute; left: 0; top: 0;">Das</a></section><article><p>As good a day as any to remember to be kind and gracious.</p><p>A short and lovely poem <br>Small Kindnesses - by  Danusha Laméris</p><p><a href="https://www.danushalameris.com/poems" rel="nofollow noreferrer">https://www.danushalameris.com/poems</a></p><p><a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Poetry" rel="tag">#Poetry</a> <a href="https://mastodon.online/tags/Poem" rel="tag">#Poem</a></p></article><footer><a rel="bookmark" href="https://gnusocial.jp/conversation/3663460#notice-7178216">In conversation</a><time datetime="2024-09-14T06:04:36+09:00" title="Saturday, 14-Sep-2024 06:04:36 JST">about 2 months ago</time> <span>from <span><a href="https://mastodon.online/@SRDas/113121144826286403" rel="external" title="Sent from mastodon.online via ActivityPub">mastodon.online</a></span></span><a href="https://mastodon.online/@SRDas/113121144826286403">permalink</a><h4>Attachments</h4><ol><li><label><a rel="external" href="https://gnusocial.jp/attachment/3165752">Small KindnessesI’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,
have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”-- The New York Times (9/19/2019),   Bonfire Opera</a></label><br><a href="https://files.mastodon.online/media_attachments/files/113/121/131/380/119/129/original/72a2876c317f4a17.jpg" rel="external">https://files.mastodon.online/media_attachments/files/113/121/131/380/119/129/original/72a2876c317f4a17.jpg</a></li></ol></footer></blockquote>

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Das (srdas@mastodon.online)'s status on Saturday, 14-Sep-2024 06:04:36 JST Das
As good a day as any to remember to be kind and gracious.
A short and lovely poem
Small Kindnesses - by Danusha Laméris
https://www.danushalameris.com/poems
#Poetry #Poem
In conversationabout 2 months ago from mastodon.onlinepermalink
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1. Small Kindnesses I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you” when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying. And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other. We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot, and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder, and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass. We have so little of each other, now. So far from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange. What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here, have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.” -- The New York Times (9/19/2019), Bonfire Opera
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