Waiting for Light

Bird lands on the railing.
Three feet away.
Doesn't see me.

Rain makes its song.
Each drop a note.
Temporary mirrors forming.

Steam twirls from my coffee.
Visible heat rising.
A dance I can't catch.

Morning sun breaks.
Exact angle on brick.
Brings a glow.

A moth flutters, lost.
Seeks light through glass.
Its persistence, heartbreaking.

Shadow of the plant.
Climbs up the wall.
Afternoon ritual.

City's heartbeat, unnoticed.
Routine of light, sound.
Lessons in being here.

Everything's moving, growing.
Unaware, alive, constant.
Beauty I didn't look for.

Hope emerges through cracks.
I watch, not knowing why.

--Vera