Perhaps Becoming

There is rain outside. Shards of sleet click on the windows.
The temperature teeters on the edge of ice, unsure and raw.

It does not matter too much. Not to you.
You are inside. Heat blows over your feet. You have coffee.

And you have time. A luxury. The luxury to watch the cold
without feeling it. Dry. Safe, at least for the day.

A day that, should you waste it away, will not miss you,
where staring out of the window is part of the process

of becoming. Or perhaps becoming again, anew, a step
slightly to the right or slightly to the left, a subtle change

in direction, that, followed long enought lands you
in a completely different world, a journey that starts

in stillness.

About this poem

Daydreaming is woefully underestimated.

It really is rain with a side dish of sleet this morning.

Massive change starts with little changes.

From all these thoughts, this poem.

The picture was taken at the Mystic Seaport in CT.

Tom