Sitting in the sunlight…
reading in the shade…
enjoying for the first time
in a long time the feeling
of the breeze against my face…
outside of a library that I have not
set foot in for months,
because its doors have long since been shut –
as have the covers of its many books…
I am making the most of some moments
of quietude, of solitude –
akin to that of a performance’s interlude –
before I have to go back to the hustle
and the bustle of the life of a city…
I am also sitting besides a fountain
that I know well and I have been entranced
by on more than one occasion –
and as I listen to the sound,
and as I watch the dancing jets of water
jump into the air and then
cascade back down into the pool of water below,
I feel calm, I feel at peace,
I feel lucky to be where I am,
and I make sure to try and take in
every detail that I see of what is around me;
because I just know that I am going
recall this moment of time again
one day when I need it the most.

The wind blows and turns the pages
of the book upon my lap,
but I do not lose my place
within the story that has me entranced…
everybody who I see around me
is noticeably taking their time
and going at their own pace of life
upon their individual path
that occasionally intersects
with that of other people –
even though most of the impressions
made these days are not meant to last;
however, for someone like me –
someone who sees poetry,
someone who hears music,
and someone who feels meaning
within the image of a single falling leaf –
there is always inspiration to be found
within every instant of being outside,
even though at times we have to stay
seemingly isolated, like an island of one,
while our thoughts and our feelings
bubble away, just below the surface,
on the inside, within our mind.