Taking space

How will you take up space in this world today?

Will you stand, barefoot
on the small patch of ground
where your toes and your heels
touch the earth,
a fraction of an inch
into the dirt
(or it could be a mile)
until your space
and the space of the world
become one?

Will you pause
before you order your coffee
when you have reached the front of the line
and offer one extra tick of silence,
one extra moment
for one extra blink
to pass between you
and the youth across the counter,
the gift of a tiny
(or infinite)
sliver of rest,
a reminder that
we all need space
to breathe?

Will you fall into a heap of blankets
in your bed
(on your couch, in a hammock)
and curl up with
your cat
(your child, your favorite book)
and trace in your mind
the outline of your body
at rest,
the sister spaces of
stillness of body
stillness of spirit?

Or will you break open
your heart
to make space
to embrace
the world?