Where is the ordinary,
the mundane, the boring,
the everyday washload of dishes
in the sink of my despair?
The weeds that grow in
the imagined pristine purity
of my garden?
The garbage pail that needs emptying
the window that need wiping to see
the path that needs sweeping?
the walk to the store
for the thousandth time?
The cooking of the meal for the millionth,
seemingly so distant from
the glories of the heavens,
those distractions of our minds,
the constant search for relief
from our suffering and pain
and the pursuit of pleasure or happiness
which leaves us so surprisingly empty,
asking, “Where is this reward?”
when it has passed.
I seek these,
these most insignificant moments
situated in the crevice
between darkness and light,
because there, I have heard,
is found the wellspring of our lives eternal
running so prosaically
from the kitchen tap,
neither sublimely nor miraculously,
where no one would expect it,
the simple truth of our being,
flowing through us
in the service of life and love.
4/17/16 El Aguacate, Jal, Mx