The Epiphany

A short poem written & photographed

by Hayley Smith

Heavy eyes pry open slightly,

Light. It aches my eyes, it aches my sight.

Water.

Cleansing, refreshing.

Displacing the staleness of sleep.

Air.

Touch of the cold door handle

presumes the icy chill that awaits.

I stop. I look.

As I walk I count my steps,

Each step carefully placed so as not to slip on

the sodden ground,

One. Two. Three & counting

A gold and amber carpet of leaves coats the

pavement,

I feel my pulse boom

inside my head

I feel my pulse boom

inside my head

nothingness

A haunting choir of crows distracts my gaze,

I feel the rumble and roar of the road

The last perfumes of summer

Compete with the ever-present stench

of littered streets

I stop. I look.

Innocent raindrops patter onto

stone pavements

Then gurgle into thirsty drains

What have I missed in my day to day?

Those minutes wasted on the constant search to organise,

Organise and search for a better living

Why don’t we live the moments of our time and space?

I stop. I stare

I watch the grey matted clouds heave into one another

Whilst the sun fights to the front for a moments attention

Life is lost on minutes planned.

I feel the wind of anxious people

rushing past

Organising, planning,

deadlines, planning,

future planning

The control of time is in our hands

Life is what happens when we’re busy making plans.