Thursday, July 2, 2015

Day 26: Painfully Perfect

Painfully Perfect

The moment you decide at 9:30pm that
headache and day-from-hell be damned,
you're going for a run to make it a five day streak - 
and the world is so surprisingly beautiful as you
drown in its humidity and
swim through the fog
and the street lights reflect off the leaves on the trees
and shine on the slick backs of toads hopping across the street,
and the grass is wet so the world smells like childhood
as fireflies sparkle a magic
you thought you had left behind.

The moment when you round the corner and the moon
is full and red and low,
heavy, and cloaked in fog the way
the sadness of this life envelops you on the days
you can't help but wear the cruelty of this world like a shroud
yet the world is so painfully perfect in this moment,
tears sting your eyes.

This moment
is the moment you realize the world
is only ever made of poetry
and one can only ever be so lucky
as to notice:
though the moon wears our pain on her face
and can barely lift herself up,
her beauty still crowns the sky,
and - with or without her -
the fireflies still manage
to shine.   

No comments:

Post a Comment