happenstance

These things I see repeating, could be. They could be repeating themselves to draw something to my attention. Or it could be I'm looking for them, to convince myself of something else.

I hear the speaking of the same word many times. I see a bird, a starling, twitch its wings. It sings out the same notes to its neighbors.

I feel the pink softness in the same petals pulled from the same droopy flowers. I see the same bright minutes stand beside the same white hours, before they jump away.

I watch it blur by me, the same branded symbol on the same make of car. I feel the same jar's worth of air disturbed by the same swarm of gnats and their thimbleful of wings beating.

None of it is real, and yet it's all happened many times before. No part of it could possibly come to be, but it all lives together right now and everywhere.

I'll walk where the lights take me, sometimes, following the greens so I don't have to stop. Or I'll walk where I want to go, ignoring the lights and daring the cars.

I'll put two words together, because they rhyme, or they don't, and suddenly I'll find myself at the end of a passage, which says something insightful, or it says nothing with any meaning whatsoever.