An Epiphany of Wholesome Moments
Looking back I can see what matters & it is not what we think
I am approaching that time when nothing matters
& I see in flashback all the episodic visions
of childhood like pock marks studding a map —
edited highlights of a life not always well lived.
The shape of things is not what we think.
Big events are glossed over & all the forgotten
moments are stored in a mausoleum to assault
the soul prior to graduation, saying Look!
The out-of-body experience aged three, my parents’
divorce, the years of drinking, my grandfather
flying up the stairs after I shot him in the eye with
my bow & arrow, the loss of my father — all small fry.
Endless gentle meetings with cashiers & street
banter with strangers are what makes Heaven grin.
Each small moment appears graced & illumined
like a small kiss, the touch & go of brief encounter.
All life is a dream glued by the poignant moment
nothing demanded or decreed, like taking roses to an
old lady I would never meet. All the falling stars of the
betrayed say Forgive! & I know they mean me…..
Copyright Simon Heathcote
