Wishes for Your Wednesday by Tina Kelley May it have the smart scent of fingersweat and typewriter. May the song of yes get stuck in your head but only in a good way, and may you hear the peace of the beagle stopped barking, the silence like a casserole. Your muse will have the composure and fertility of a well-mated queen bee. If I told you that whales understand baby squeals, would you believe? Prayer has a hot and wet summer ahead, so may your worries be as flimsy as state park toilet paper. May your Wednesday have all the calm hush of this word: grazing and this one: solace. Did you know your soul is refilled a quarter inch every time you hear the shushing of a man raking leaves? May your dog like you so much he dislocates his tail upon waking, and may trees be for you very-much a cathedral. Text yourself a heart. See how good it feels. Sending, getting. May you end your night with a list of gratitudes, may it grow. End your day in dayenu. One item alone would’ve sufficed.
From “Field Guide to North American Words” by Tina Kelley (Jacar Press, 2026).