the point

do you have time to
stop and smell the roses
or admire the play of
the sun against the
clouds as it rises
or hear the birds
proclaim their joy
or feel the brush of
cotton against your skin?
no? then what is the point?

same old

another day of
same old, same old.
get up, go to work,
handle fires, answer
email, write up detailed
see the new flowers
emerging, feel the sun
on your face, laugh with
friends, enjoy the commute
it’s lighter than usual.
another day of
same old, same old


i see a glimmer
in the back recesses of my mind,
but when i turn to focus
it fades. we play this game
until i realize that it is
nearly gone. i grieve until
i sit, quietly, focus on my
breath, and am present as
it comes to greet me and
hold me close.