The sound of quiet. The sky 
indigo, steeping 
deeper from the top, like tea.
In the absence
of anything else, my own
breathing became obscene.
I heard the beating
of bats’ wings before 
the air troubled above 
my head, turned to look
and saw them gone.
On the surface of the black
lake, a swan and the moon
stayed perfectly 
still. I knew this was
a perfect moment.
Which would only hurt me
to remember and never
live again. My God. How lucky to have lived
a life I would die for.
~Leila Chatti “I Went Out to Hear”

I am reminded every day I am living the life I had hoped for, dreamed of, prayed for…

if for one minute I forget that in a momentary (or prolonged) lapse of grumbling,
I only need a plum-colored sunset to come alongside me to remind me.

Or a vision of swans overhead, their wings swishing the silent air.
Or a moon rising slow and steady, peering through the blinds to see what I’m up to.

Yes, I would die for a life like this, as someday I must, bidding it farewell like I wave to the morning moon when it fades away, knowing it will return. I’m told someday I will too, at a time when all moments are forever-perfect moments.

How lucky am I, steeped deeply in this knowledge. How blessed are we all…