Cleaning the Ceiling Fan

Old dust falls for

Things that sit still

Turn filthy just by being

Snow,from hot winters

Falling as former shadows

Embodied here upon my palm

Surely it cannot be cleaned!

Yet

As yesterday’s dust falls

I sense how tomorrow 

Occupies everything-

It does not move

And yet moves everything

By flickering switch 

On clicks a revelation-

Each moment by itself

Is intact as unshed snow

Just a coalescing crystal

Just an idea felt in air

Just as sure as the sun

Just as lapsing

I see in shifting light

Seconds snowing.

Second chances

From Heaven

My hazy eyes wink

With sky-wide wonder

As I turn the sun

On and off

I see my hand again

And again

And 

I see that

Nothing is needed 

To clean it

It was never dirty

To begin with

For

Everything is new

In a new light

By David Fladger

From: United States

Twitter: @FladgerDavid