Words from a Dishonest Poet

I Can See It

I can see many hidden sights,

tucked into the Earth, 

trying their best 

not to be found.

But I find them,

 it's what gives me those sparse moments 

of a serene mind to relieve me through the day.

I can see them, 

though they may be simple. 

It's a pleasure to see 

the treasures the universe has spent 

it's heavily occupied moments to create, 

what I believe, 

just for me.

Seeing spots of sunshine 

sway in corners of the room 

I didn't know it could reach.

Sitting in my room 

where the light can't settle or 

strain my eyes.

It's such a beautiful feeling 

to step outside

 and feel a cool rush of wind 

sweep past my ears.

To take a deep breath in 

and feel the air cut by autumn chills 

and being able to smell 

the grass that has begun to fade.

Or when the leaves are blowing so hard, 

their brustle could be mistaken 

for the crashing waves 

on an August beach 

during a hot spell 

on the East Coast.

But the moving air 

that send goosebumps running up my shoulders, 

past my neck, 

and drips down my back like a thick sweat, 

can always bring me back 

to the present.

Little pieces of silver lint 

floating down 

sure to belong to an angle

that I can only see 

when clean light filters through.

Catching people making eye contact 

and smiling at each other 

from opposite sides of the room, 

sitting several feet away from one another 

with only particles of dust 

dancing between them. 

The small things that find me pink in the cheeks

A smile in my chest

A note to live another day, a sign I take it.

The moments I can think bearable

I can see them

Maybe just for a glimpse

But for as long as they let me

They'll save me.