Slow Down

In the past months I saw death and injuries which reminded me how little we do to slow ourselves down. With this, I hope we do that, even if it is a little. Happy Friday.

The Ordinaries*

It is a kind of love, is it not?

How the lake waits for you to come around the bend

How the door opens to take you in

How the street is lit on nights when you don’t go jogging.

What patience they have, inside.

The longing, untold.

How the cupboard keeps things you have abandoned

How the pillow receives unwashed hair

How the water is there, drinkable, any given moment.

What faith they have, in you.

The acceptance, pure.

What if toilet paper comes in a block instead of a roll

Oil in a plate not a bottle

Books with sheets, unbound, unnumbered?

What if there is no button, no zipper, no elastic band

Soup spoon with no handle

Light without switch?

What respect they give, to you.

Ordinaries, unnoticed.

It is a kind of love, is it not?

*Inspired by The Patience of Ordinary Things, a poem by Pat Schneider. Thank you, Zee.

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