Circle upon circle
spiral over spiral
each day turns
and the moon follows her cycle
and the earth rotates
unfolding a life.
This dawn light
this October air
this April sun
are all familiar, but not quite.
The familiar tempts me to not look
because I think I already see.
The ordinary tempts me to not wonder
because I think I already know.
The simple tempts me to not listen
because I think I already hear.
But this blush moment of being
which cradles me like home
is at once a vast horizon
of unknowing.
May I remember not to know
as the days unspool
one upon another
so alike
I overlook their singular amazement.