being alive...

Even with a headache I made Monica laugh in the afternoon ... 

...with Monica at the sun, in Gorlitzer Park...

BEING HUMAN (by Naima Penniman)

I wonder if the sun debates dawn some mornings not wanting to rise out of bed from under the down-feather horizon

if the sky grows tired of being everywhere at once adapting to the mood swings of the weather

if clouds drift off trying to hold themselves together make deals with gravity to loiter a little longer

I wonder if rain is scared of falling if it has trouble letting go

if snow flakes get sick of being perfect all the time each one trying to be one-of-a-kind

I wonder if stars wish upon themselves before the die if they need to teach their young how to shine

I wonder if shadows long to just-for-once feel the sun if they get lost in the shuffle not knowing where they’re from

I wonder if sunrise and sunset respect each other even though they’ve never met

if volcanoes get stressed if storms have regrets if compost believes in life after death

I wonder if breath ever thinks of suicide if the wind just wants to sit still sometimes and watch the world pass by

if smoke was born knowing how to rise if rainbows get shy back stage not sure if their colors match right

I wonder if lightning sets an alarm clock to know when to crack if rivers ever stop and think of turning back

if streams meet the wrong sea and their whole lives run off-track I wonder if the snow wants to be black

if the soil thinks she’s too dark if butterflies want to cover up their marks if rocks are self-conscious of their weight if mountains are insecure of their strength

I wonder if waves get discouraged crawling up the sand only to be pulled back again to where they began

if land feels stepped upon if sand feels insignificant if trees need to question their lovers to know where they stand

if branches waver at the crossroads unsure of which way to grow if the leaves understand they’re replaceable and still dance when the wind blows

I wonder where the moon goes when she is in hiding I want to find her there

and watch the ocean spin from a distance listen to her stir in her sleep

effort give way to existence

... a poem she likes a lot