MOMENTS

i don’t know exactly what it was that moved me

standing there

looking at the fresh mulch around the newly planted yews

then turning

and looking at a tree swaying ever gently in the wind

it was a moment

so simple

yet oh so beautiful

what’s the metaphor here

i’m not sure

is it the mulch

the leftovers that nurture new life

like beauty from ashes

maybe that

i’m sure a gifted poet could wax eloquently

probably there’s no metaphor here at all

but i need more moments

and lavishly spend time in those moments

to feel them

see them

hear them

savor them

 

to not let them pass by me into the invisibility of taking them for granted

or the abyss of blindness

to what is

mid the distractions of life

jealous for the meaning

but we all want this don’t we

the universal prescription

to be seen

to matter

to be loved

 

A poem by Greg Nelson

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