It is week…oh I don’t know. Pick a number, 1 to 100, it doesn’t matter, any number will do, because the weeks run together now. No Monday morning angst when a day is like the one before, or the next. No hump day celebrations, anticipations of TGIF, no weekends, no Sunday day of rest. There is only sunrise and sunset, sunrise…sunset…sunrise…sunset.
If ever there was a time to learn to breathe, it is now. If ever a time to cherish the moment, to fall into the abyss of mindfulness, it is this. Sunlight streaming, a cool breeze tossing emerald treetops, the sparkle of dawn’s first light.
They call it the new normal, but I don’t want to be normal anymore. I’ve had a taste of the life I once left behind working overtime week after week after week, forgetting that I had a life once, or could have if only I had made room for it.
They are a gift, these blurry days that never seem to end but for the relentless cadence of day into night into day into night and again. I breathed just now, slow, deep, inhaling, exhaling. Truth. I am learning, with nowhere to be, that here is all I need and now is all that matters.
Have a lovely now my friends…look! There goes a butterfly.
Another Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 10 May 2020
when we reflect on how it was
dawn emerging through the trees
it took a tragedy for our broken hearts to mend
i can’t help myself, it’s an obsession, yes, i know
but I’m not sure they’re who they claim
there’s no sleeping in, no lingering
day after day, and instinct
A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.