Dear stranger,
They say the purpose of life is happiness, but that’s a part time job.
Few call it creation, though even the best artists doubt their own life.
Maybe its smaller maintenance work – fixing what breaks and laughing at what does not.
Or simpler still –
to notice, the fading of colour in fallen leaves,
the direction of sunlight hitting the roof tiles,
to notice, the smile on a person walking out from work,
the trembling hands helping a home seeker,
to notice, the song being hummed by the fellow passenger,
the mark left by a rusted hook on the art frame living on it,
to notice, the calmness in burial grounds,
the hustling of weeds in the unploughed farm,
to notice, your name being mispronounced,
share a silent laugh with another stranger.
If the universe has draft, it has forgotten to CC us.
Live as if this draft were final, with grace, curiosity and enough stupidity.
:)