In our lusting for things far away and beautiful
wide rivers with birds
mountains folding away into sky
we sometimes spend days, whole months
in a vague forgetfulness –
What was it we wanted? What was it we knew?
Then in one of our most ordinary moments
CNN jabbering in the background
potatoes pared white in a pot,
a gray sky will lift out the window
and gold light will stream toward us,
or an image will appear that was meant to
sell us something but instead transfixes us.
There is it, the far away and beautiful
and here we are, the little person, the singular,
with the gulf of longing ever widening.
Buoyed and stunned, we could be love or fury.