by December 3, 2013 0 comments

everything in
the simplest
moment of
life is felt
with the greatest
just as it is.
the taste of an orange
in a bowl,
the juice, the sweetness.
the yellow, golden banana
at its side.
the sight of a swirling squirrel
on a branch,
suddenly by
the window.
the pebbles along
a garden path.
momentary cracks into
another world: this one.
rarest gifts, again, measured
by the scarcity of an open soul.

editors note:

Poems are literary openers, lifting cranial compartments, in search of open souls. – mh

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