The Hum

I am grateful.
A sweet small hum
trails through me.
Soft, wispy, caressing.
Totally uninhibited, ignorant
of a larger context demanding allegiance
to chaos and fear.

I love this hum;
child-like whimsy and innocence
skipping rope
deep within me;
tucked away, vibrant,
insistent that play and gratitude
are the core of living.

I'm not sure
where the hum comes from
except perhaps God,
and I am quite comfortable
giving God credit.
The hum is somehow,
definitely,
a part of me,
but is also,
so not of me.

This hum is sensory;
I hear the hum,
sometimes I even
feel the hum
as a subterranean tickle
tingling my fingertips;
my very cells
singing back
a chorus of life.

My hum and I are playmates....
       school girls giggling over a secret.