Extraordinarily Ordinary



A throbbing toothache,
An itchy throat, tired feet—
Painful, yes,
But they confirm I am alive.

The tree swings in the storm,
Branches break, leaves fly.
It, too, bleeds; it, too, hurts—
Another life.

A little sparrow
Watches the light go on,
Mesmerized, she strikes the glass—
A precious life lost.

I am alive,
Like the tree, like the sparrow.
I, too, will die,
Yet only I know this.

Only I name the pain,
Only I measure the weight.
I wonder:
Do I truly belong here?

I am that—
That which turns the simple,
The ordinary, into me:
Special, extraordinary.

Feeling unique
I call myself me
A name shared 
By all who can name.


Maybe, just maybe,
I am this world,
But not in it, nor of  of it.


 


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