Breaking Through
I have become removed
from the pulse of ordinary things.
The daily walk is no longer
calibrated by what I take in
but by the number of steps
measured by a pedometer
handcuffed to my arm.
Much of the world
goes unnoticed - pushed aside
to the periphery, too small
or distant to register interest
on the blunt sweep
of my senses.
Mostly, the world just passes
in a blur diminished by the glare
from thoughts played out
on the mind's internal screen.
Nothing seems anchored
but drifts inexorably towards
a distant point miraged
on the horizon of some
indeterminable fear.
And yet,
there are moments when
the world breaks through.
Yesterday, the soft, morning
light of the April sun glowed
on the outstretched wings
of a cormorant. It seemed
to hold itself in a posture
of prayer. I am redeemed
by seeing the wonder
in such ordinary things
and connect
to something deeper
where all of creation
has its origins,
made whole again.
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