How

I do not know how it is possible
not to pause, to stop, to listen
when a single bird’s first notes
suddenly rise above the subtle hum
of the city’s opening or to ignore
the wonder when one spring day
descends unexpectedly to revive
this town in the midst of winter.
I do not know how to sing praises
as wholeheartedly as the throng
of crows gathered at the crown
of a leaf-barren tree whose cants
seem like cacophony to me
but must be the joyful noises
that they were made to sing.

I do not know how.

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Identifying Features

Identifying Features Is it suffering who joins you at the table? Or is it merely cold and gloom, an animal discomfort? Does it tell you a story? Does it whisper in your ear? Does it try to sell you glamor or pain? It has this trick of sliding away when you look at it, as […]

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