For all

Before, it would vex me when my nose ran and I didn’t have a tissue

when the tap dripped and no matter how I jiggled it, the drip drip drip would perpetuate, leaving a little rust stain, impossible to clean

when the cat would kick his litter out and eating fast, his food would spill, over the side, as he bent to consume just to again use and befowl

his cycle of eat/pee/poo seemed deliberately artful as if should he speak he’d say; that’s what I think of you

I would be annoyed at myself, when I forgot to latch the garden gate after mowing

and at night hear the sound of things moving, wondering at the fragility of life, should something creep up and strike

how easy to be hit by speeding car or thunder bolt, I spent far too long worrying the clouds of their impending storm

before, I would stand in front of tiny mirror, angled at my waist-line muttering things, without knowing how shallow I’d become

the baubles and the bells and whistles, trappings of someone as yet to acknowledge herself

just the illusion, the dress, the costume

I built castles and didn’t consider the ground

I forgot the child’s dear wish to fly and thought only of earthly options

my head was packed with good sense and no dreams

it mattered more that I possessed signs and wonders than to be real

in time as our tinsel fades and the corners of our smile grow brittle

when challenges mount formerly wrinkle free forehead

we stand so far from truth we could not hear if it shouted

come back from the festival, where drunk on yourself you see

only reflections of you in the carnival mirror of the sea

spend time stripped of your attachments and awards

they serve no purpose when they matter not at all

stand a while with nothing, sense the pleasure of a day

born only once

the joy of survival

a moment without pain

where like children we find wonder

In those days of simplicity beneath the sun

before we learned to live so thin, nutrition coming from emptiness

before it would vex me that the bulb needed replacing, garbage taken out, the dried remainder of eggs did not come off breakfast plate

and now

I smile when for a moment I am peaceful and the lap of night winks closed for another day to unfold, the first strain of pink ushering dawn

and hope

for it takes only one change, for all.