the art of discovery.
i guess i've never looked
at it that way. the familiar
has this unfortunate skill
of going unnoticed until some -
thing - makes it known and
establishes it as some - thing -
novelly quotidian. it seems that
this world is a never-ending
scavenger hunt.
perhaps i have grown too old,
and my soul hides behind
cataracts of the heart, while the Sun,
on the other hand,
casts new shadows that long
to be seen. i pass quickly through
the everyday, hoping for different, more
engaging stimuli, praying all the while
for the adventures of somewhere else.
it may be, however, that the art of discovery
lies not in finding new - things - that
make richer this life, but in seeing
the same old things
with ever new eyes.
Stupid. This picture-poem is really stupid. And by stupid, I mean, "made me cry a little, smile a little, taste the words a little, and be grateful for beautiful friends"
ReplyDeleteAlso, I had to look up "quotidian". Now I know.