COMMONPLACE

My heart throbs
To the gentle hum of an ordinary day

Like a leaf kissed by summer breeze.

Moments breathe in the simple things
And in them have their sustenance –

Finding the match of a lonely sock
Scouring a pan until it is mirror-like –

Inconsequential, perhaps
But for these hands lost in the commonplace
A triumph

To be strung like pearls when the day is over
Worn over the soul, its unspoken prayer.