On The Boardwalk
On the boardwalk,
Where the blind man watches the sunset,
The imperious gulls supervise proceedings,
Their beady eyes aloof are all-knowing.
That there is no need to analyse
In order to comprehend.
They intuitively recognise
That there is as much beauty
In the crushed dog-ends
In the muddy puddle
As there is in the scattering light
Shed by our nearest star.
The day just is.
It exists for us to survive
In a world
Where there is life in a soggy bread crust
And death in a moment’s inattention.
Opher – 10.9.2022
They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Probably also in the species of the beholder.
Is it only those who are secure and have plenty who are able to spend precious time appreciating wonders?