everyday when I walk to the train station

or walk from the train station

i pass dozens of your typical queens-type houses

all of them are raised two-stories

with basement closets that have been converted

as the third and final story

each one has it’s own little square of mother earth

out front

decorated with the gamut

 

everyday, many times a day

they are blurs in my peripheral vision

 

one day, I was reading a book

and later on, when I walked passed that background

i remembered a passage about

walking at half speed

slowing down for a few moments

in an attempt to notice life

 

i forced my brisk momentum to a complete halt

i took a deep breathe

felt a few vertebrae crack

exhaled

and took my first step

 

i attempted not to think much

i just tried to notice

tried to listen

to smell something

 

that’s when i noticed a door

 

it was hidden behind vines, ivy and a few shrubs

there was a deep, intense slash of a shadow

cutting through this scene

and i noticed large fragments of a stone path

creating a trail to this entryway

 

it was wonderful, exotic, mysterious

stories of hobbits and wizards and time portals ran through my head

 

i took a few more steps when

i realized the house next

revealed its own enchanting little passageway

as did the house next and the next, on and on

 

i felt my stride becoming slower and slower with each building

astonished at all of the wild stories

I had never thought of before now

simply because I always walked too fast

 

there are so many rituals i cannot avoid in my life

like walking to the train

but often find myself paying them no mind

 

what i have known, since a child,

is that life is easy

 

what i have learned

recently

is that life is simple

 

i hear a lot about how things are supposed to be

but a moment can only occur

exactly as the moment ends up occurring

because life is a simple thread

from birth to death

there are no detours

to resetting or active hindsight

 

a moment comes

and when that moment is over

then that moment is gone

 

if i look back for it

I miss the next one

and soon, I find I am unable

to turn my head

to continue to look forward

to continue to move forward

 

I breathe

having walked a mere city block

having traveled the world

again, realizing

 

simple moments

never-ending

occurring long before and long after

me

a slow walk

what is meant by

having no regrets

no guilt

 

there is no need to fix the past

it is not possible

so

be what you feel

 

I have known a lot of things in my life

but now I understand

how complicated I have made

this simple, peaceful life.

 

 

-  af

 

 

 

 

 

(written on typewriter)