A Life, There

A splash of liquid…spoiled cloth… Locked up restrooms, and someone directed, A simple direction to a covered area… An enclosed area where the artists were changing dresses As they were getting ready for a show. Inside, someone was already there, changing I was standing, dumb and frozen, Not knowing quite what to do…... A silenced pause and anger were growing inside Not sure, how to egress with that feeling. On that rather uncomfortable moment She stood up, a sharp, tall figure, She told me to carry on…. with softness in her voice I was suddenly relieved and tried to forget That specific moment, somewhat suffocating. Not sure why, I felt, life is a compilation Of these insignificant, little moments, Tiny points of recollection of memory… Of little or no value, whatsoever. And I felt, tremendously grateful for having a life, there. (Source of Inspiration: The Prophet : Kahlil Gibran)