The Invisible Poetry of Life

The rousing amidst initial whisper of sunrise;
And in the smell that stirs an inward journey;
In that first eye contact with a future beloved;
And among shared fits of tear-laden laughter.
Within the reluctance of a final goodbye,
and in the release of that familiar hand,
one last time.

The things we cannot truly perceive,
arising on a plane we cannot grasp.
A glimpse, out of the corner of our eye.
We turn to see it,
and it’s gone.
But part of us, deep within,
ever understands.

A child’s unexpected embrace;
A parent’s glance of appreciation,
or pride,
or dismay.
An unwavering gaze into the eyes of a lover;
And a sentiment withheld,
yet understood.

Transcendent.
Invisible.
Yet we try to hold, interpret, contextualize;
Try to make sense in our profane minds.
We name the unnamable,
diminish the beauty therein;
Dragging earthward from the heavens.

The electricity in that first touch,
when you swept the eyelash from my cheek.
When you finally lowered your hidden mask.
When you gave me that nameless, knowing look.
When I tasted your skin.
When I witnessed your tears.
When I lost your face in the crowd.

Let us merely acknowledge these, in this invisible poetry of life.
The ineffable things which make life worth living.
Let us not lower them to the level of our context;
Let us not miss them in our effort to understand;
Let us not try to name them, and not try to grasp:
Those which make our lives so inundated with beauty.