Seasons

You look at the calendar.

You are surprised.

It is September 6. 

You haven’t been paying 

attention, you guess.  At
least not in the way that 

knows the day, has it seeped 

and steeped in your being, and 

in the way you go about things.

This happens, you surmise, 

when you spend day after
day in an office, staring at a
screen, moving in and out through

rushed and time-bound increments.

You forget to pay attention, to
breathe, to lift your eyes, open your
heart and feel the day.

And then those days, those months, 

those seasons just roll on through, and 

you have to think back: 

June was hopeful. July difficult. 

In August we ended. And now 

September is just beginning,
with empty calendar days and
hours approaching and asking
you to live, finally, 

just live.