Monday, May 25, 2009



He could be carrying his bowl

back to the kitchen

when the curtain might curl in a breeze,

and suddenly he would be miles away

in his mind, constructing

something useful for someone.

Or he could be sitting in the park

when a woman passes on the path,

a woman whose suffering

flares in her eyes like fire,

and swiftly he would set down

a foundation for the future,

a life where fulfillment

falls from the skies on everyone.

Or sometimes some children would laugh

and chase the snow from his thoughts,

and he would find himself

at the center of happiness.


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