Love Letter... to Life

Stepping outside, it’s not precisely sun we’re after
or the illusion of perfect stillness, but something else
that has to do with the distant riot of children at play
stacatto squeals accompanied by the cawing of crows

Or the gentler song of slighter, winged creatures
circling above, frolicking, or pecking at the earth
while the patter of water offers its liquid paean,
and winds tease trees till they shudder with pleasure

This is the quiet pageant we longed to be part of
setting aside our book or papers to vaguely register
ourselves, easing into the pattern, our breath deepening
and our heart slow-beating in unison with other things.

© Yahia Lababidi

(Images: 1, 2 mine)