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My wife's laundry basket doesn't belong where it is.
For the moment, soon to be weeks, it sits in the middle of the floor.
Shall I file a domestic complaint? Call upon authority?
Say it has to move along? That it isn't wanted there?
If I had, today I would not have seen
how this homeless thing transfigures sunlight,
the unexpected shadows and reflections,
the momentary splendor.
Lord, teach us to welcome
those in the way and
those out of place.

Photo of laundry basket shadows and reflections.

Photo and prayer 2015 by Danny N. Schweers

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