I can hear the way someone is able
to hold the notes in a harmony
like the angels themselves sing
within them from the heavens.
I can see the way a light shines
in the corners of someone's eyes
as they hold the hand of a patient
knowing that is exactly where they're meant to be.
I can feel each graceful stroke
of an artist's paintbrush
where their body and whole being meets.
And all these moments,
I admit,
have made me envious
of their absolute surety.
I have become so engulfed by a life
that is not made to be my own.
Wanting desirably to have the assurance
of a solid purpose like theirs.
But in doing so, I have lost focus
of the recognizable aspects of myself.
Aspects that deserved to be admired
by my very own senses.
For, I can hear the way the softness of my voice
is able to ease the mind
of a troubled soul.
I see the way a light shines
in my child's eyes when she looks at me
before her.
I can feel each graceful stroke
of the pencil I hold where
my body and whole being meets.
And all of these moments,
I must admit,
are just the beginning
to what is my surety.
