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