The Blindness of Busy

It’s walking a road stunned

by beauty, only to realize

you’ve driven it

a thousand times.

 

It’s the yellow finch

with a cheerful song

and baby mantis

swaying on your fingertip.

 

It’s the fuchsia wildflower

nestled in thorny weeds,

subtle and hidden

from frenzied faces.

 

It’s the feisty firefly

paying a visit to

your sunrise kitchen,

reminding you to shine.

 

(We miss so much when we hurry.)

 

Rushing past the

love of your life

to catch the light,

make the bus,

get to work and

chase the dream,

 

(past the love of your life).

 

Rushing past walks with

hands held shyly,

past eager lips meeting

beneath flickering streetlights,

past quiet conversations

draped in dawn’s blue light,

 

rushing past what songs and

poems and lives are made of —

 

we miss so much when we hurry.

 

By Renee Novosel

Follow her Instagram @reneenovoselpoetry