Standing at the kitchen sink,
Eating peaches straight from the can and
Gazing at the neighbor’s yard,
Narrowing in on the
Desolate pots there in the brown, dry dirt –
I think: this, THIS, is my life.
As nourishments descend toward
My belly, I note a feeling
Of satisfying some craving,
Things I resist: the mundane, the banal,
The ordinary, this – now.
Yet, for one heartbeat
All stops, and I taste acceptance.
My mind coalesces into this one
Moment, THIS moment,
And for just a breath
I accept the most average:
Staring out the kitchen window
At vacant pots and tawny dirt,
12:17pm on a Friday afternoon…
This banality, This ordinariness…
For just the fraction of an instant
I find acceptance and peace
In the routine and commonplace.
And the very next moment –
The judge wrangles her way back in.
“No, NO!” she protests,
“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!”
I see her, I hear her; sometimes I am her.
But for just a moment,
Just a few precious minutes ago,
Friday afternoon at 12:17pm,
I, eating peaches from a can,
Staring at the available pots in the oatmeal dirt,
Accept that this,
Is my Life.