Place the tenderest attention
Upon the empty page
Of this private moment.
It’s white page after all
Is the seat
Of the living cosmos.
How much of life goes unnoticed
When our fear, unconscious,
Turned to hurried eagerness,
Discounts everything
It cannot see.
This very moment -
A thousand colors
Never seen before
Dance in front of you.
Every sound you hear -
Made of a thousand more,
Every thought -
An expression
Of its empty source,
The entire scene
Of this moments wondering
Is the cradle of
A thousand miracles.
This is no imagination!
But the full,
Unrelenting
Urge to look.
