D. Pat Thomas

Writer, Yoga Teacher, Lover of Things Outdoors

Being Human
By Naima

I wonder if the sun debates dawn

some mornings

not wanting to rise

out of bed

from under the down-feather horizon

 

If the sky grows tired

of being everywhere at once

adapting to the mood swings of the weather

 

If the clouds drift off

trying to hold themselves together

make deals with gravity

to loiter a little longer

 

I wonder if rain is scared

of falling

if it has trouble letting go

 

If snow flakes get sick

of being perfect all the time

each one trying to be one-of-a-kind

 

I wonder if stars wish

upon themselves before they die

if they need to teach their young to shine

 

I wonder if shadows long

to once feel the sun

if they get lost in the shuffle

not knowing where they’re from

 

I wonder if sunrise and sunset

respect each other

even though they’ve never met

 

If volcanoes get stressed

If storms have regrets

If compost believes in life after death

 

I wonder if breath ever thinks

about suicide

I wonder if the wind just wants to sit

still sometimes

and watch the world pass by

 

If smoke was born knowing how to rise

If rainbows get shy back stage

not sure if their colors match right

 

I wonder if lightning sets an alarm clock

to know when to crack

If rivers ever stop

and think of turning back

 

If streams meet the wrong sea

and their whole lives run off-track

I wonder if the snow wants to be black

 

If the soil thinks she’s too dark

If butterflies want to cover up their marks

If rocks are self-conscious of their weight

If mountains are insecure of their strength

 

I wonder if waves get discouraged

crawling up the sand

only to be pulled back again

to where they began

 

I wonder if land feels stepped upon

If sand feels insignificant

If trees need to question their lovers

to know where they stand

If branches waver in the crossroads

unsure of which way to grow

If the leaves understand they’re replaceable

and still dance when the wind blows

 

I wonder where the moon goes

when she is hiding

I want to find her there

and watch the ocean

spin from a distance

Listen to her

stir in her sleep

 

effort gives way to existence