Some days are better than others.
In the crowd of time
which hour was the brightest?
How do you judge one stone
over another?
Both are a thousand millenniums old.
Surely at that age
there was an epiphany of change.
One was sculptured by a glacier,
the other held in the hand
of a child.
What stone was not softened
by that?
So living can be a holiday
or a dead nightingale.
So I can be frightened at breakfast
or dinner,
but what of the puppy
who lives just for me?
The child who wants to tell me
their adventures,
or have me read a story.
I remember my mother’s stories.
For a moment then,
or for a whole day,
I am smiling.
I want an extra apple
for someone else.
I want magic to come from the corner
and play.
Who taught us how to play
with a ball?
Why do we love kites?
To enter each other
with let’s pretend.
Why kissing feels better
than frowning.
What makes a flower blossom?
The seed,
or the angel?