A Beautiful Life

There is a grace in the skies,
at sunrise… at sunset.
Let’s just call it freedom…
and beauty.
Yet so many insensibly move along,
feet shuffling on the miracle of earth,
and eyes fixated on pavement,
wholly oblivious to the gift of everything
alive, and unfolding.
I’m on the boarder-land
of clichés here,
but what to do?
Sky, color, wind, clouds…
we’ve seen them a million times before…
haven’t we?
Man’s mind goes to sleep
with too much familiarity.
And that is the exact point
I wish to make to you, somehow,
right here and now.
Perhaps by screaming in ink,
“Wake up, swipe your awareness clean—
and see!”
Did you hear my exclamation point,
or is your mind shuffling by this poem
too?
/Blake Steele