Weight in Gold

There are moments every day

that flow like poetry

right in the middle 

of the mundane.

Lately,

I've been missing them.

I've been taking too many steps and getting no where fast.

And days for me turn kind of gray

unless I can live the poetry of them.

Unless I pause on my walk

up the stairs,

on my way to return emails

and pay bills,

peel back the curtain,

and rest my head against the glass

to drink in the glowing sunset

with my warm tea.

Unless I sink my body into a 

hot hot bath

and feel the burn of my frozen toes thawing.

Unless I pause during the surgery

and stop hearing my attending

physician's

physiology questions for me,

 because I am staring at a human heart

and it is beating.  

That was my day.

The other moments were just steps along the path.