It happens so quickly–
over and over again,
I close my eyes.
When I open them,
it’s another day.
Birds and rabbits continue
doing their animal things.
And I continue too,
doing my human things
as if opening my eyes
every morning
will happen over and over again.
I try to scribble down the words
that will ease the inevitable,
the over and overs,
the never opening again.
But words are like rabbits or birds when you blink
they’re gone.
Open your eyes.
A simple unconscious act.
I take a sip of tea
and watch the birds and rabbits
in the dew nibbled grass
of the morning–
each of us blinking,
wordless in this perfect light.
…
July 2, 2020