The Lunatic, The Lover, and The Poet

Being a hopeless romantic does not

mean I am constantly disappointed

at unmet expectations; the course of

true love never did run smooth.

Seeing the extraordinary in the mundane,

does not mean we are blind to 

the unremarkable,

but freed from those who are stuck

in the shades of grey.

We see spectrums of unseen;

truths in trees, birds, and stones;

recieve foresight in lakes, sky,

and mirrors, and reflect in them

to understand what others pass

off as common.

One wild-haired visionary

told us two ways to look at life:

either everything is a miracle,

or nothing is.

I keep thinking about philosophy,

how we logically view miracles

as things that are impossible, but 

happen; if repeated, they are not

miracles. Truly?

Utilitarian or not, 

I wonder if apostles saw the 

acts of Christ, performed for them

at a rate I’ve not witnessed, myself,

as miracles each time. 

Do we deaden our sights because

something becomes familiar,

or revel every time that beauty

enters our scope?

I am all three of Theseus’s musings,

treated like a fool to those who

see nothing.

Where they see nothing, 

I see what could be.

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I Revisit Memory, and Regret Every One of my Interactions

Mary Szybist sat next to me,
eating salad, and talking about
“Big Lebowski”.
I was shocked that she enjoyed it,
and she compared it to Faulkner.

If I could go back, I’d revise my answers. I would tell her that I
loved “A Rose for Emily”, and that it’s not the whole of the movie,
but the character Walter.

Sure, I didn’t like it that my husband
chose a movie that seemed to drag,
but it was interesting to think
about how it was similar to Faulkner.
I think about similarities to plot,
wondering if I can make more connections.

I would have asked you why you liked it,
instead I was so concerned about looking fat, letting myself be consumed from within,
and I could have learned the answers
to the questions eating at me now.

I wish I were better at speaking.
Honestly, there was so much I wanted to ask you. I would have asked about
my favorite poem by you, and maybe
asked what other films
are literary in disguise.