and the clock strikes – Prose on day to day

morning filters through dancing curtains
eye lids flutter open, squinting at the sun
a new day, another has begun
rituals performed subconsciously
early morning till darkness falls
grabbing minutes from the clock
tasks needing to perform

traffic lights, idling engine
tapping fingers on the wheel
music keeping calm through
weaving cars and rage
brains not engaged
momentary blankness
remembering last; the locking of the door
seat belt click, now destination reached
dreamtime; with no eyes closed

from (a) to (b) no second thoughts
chores, steps of every day
mundane for the most part
like watching grass grow
(im)personal
we may question as we do
is this what life is all about
a vacuum something surely missed

so from time to time
when given the chance
catch sunshine in your hands
watch eagles soar
listen to the ocean
stand in rain
remember where you are
this life but once
not a dress rehearsal
embrace your moments
like I know you can

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I am not gloomy or down in the dumps when writing this – I thought I would add this note as I don’t want my readers thinking otherwise 🙂