A few minutes ago
I washed my hands.
A simple act
Something that happens every day
But at that moment
When the last sheens of
Soap littered my hands
I took in the glistening glow
Of my waterlogged palms
Bathed in flourescent light
And my wonder
I ran my fingers over both hands
And tried to absorb
The sensation
Of my fingertips brushing my hands
And my hands brushing my fingertips;
Static shooting through skin
Amazement traveling through eyes
Incredulous over something
So simple
Done everyday
But to pause
The ever moving world
That doesn't make time for simple pleasures
And simply observing something
You usually overlook,
Even the act of caressingly cleaning hands,
Forces your eyes open
Within a pool of reality;
And once you emerge from the water
That blurs your vision,
Your eyes will truly capture
Everything that you need to see.
S.c.b.
Sorry if what I write doesn't make much sense... I'm really exhausted and writing this late at night because I feel the need to write but don't know what to write about.. So I'll probably just write poems about what's happening with or around me at moments throughout the night. :)
